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THE   UNDER  SIDE   OF  THINGS 


a  IHovel 


LILIAN    BELL 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS  OF  AN  OLD  MAID" 
"  A  LITTLE  SISTER  TO  THE  WILDERNESS  "  ETC. 


NEW      YORK 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 
1896 


THE  LOVE  AFFAIRS  OF  AN  OLD  MAID      By 
LILIAN    BELL.       ,6n,o,    Cloth,    Ornamental,    Uncut 
i-dges  and  Gilt  Top,  $i  25. 
From  it.  bright  "Dedication"  to  its  sweet  and  jjracious  close 

.s  spmt  ,s  wholesome,  full  of  happy  HKht.  and  on*  lm/e  s  over 


'"ice. 


PUBLISHED    BY    HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    NEW    YORK. 


Copyright,  1896,  by  LILIAN  BELL. 
Copyright,  1896,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 


THIS   BOOK 

1Ts  XovinglE  2>e&fcateD  to 

MY  SISTER 
CLARA  BELL  LESSIG 

WHO  IS  THE  VERY  PULSE  OK  MY  HEART 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   THE  MOTHER  OF  ALICE I 

II.   A  SMALL  TOWN 13 

III.  ALICE  GOES  TO  WEST  POINT 28 

IV.  ALICE  AND  KATE  VANDEVOORT 38 

V.   BREAKFAST  AT  COZZENS'S 53 

VI.   GUARD-MOUNTING 62 

VII.   DOWN  FLIRTATION  WALK 83 

VIII.  COUNTER-IRRITANTS 103 

IX.   THE  CHILD  PROBLEM 121 

X.   ON  THE  BOAT-HOUSE  STEPS 136 

XI.   THE  BATTLE  OF  STOCKBRIDGE iCo 

XII.  THE  COPELAND  TERRACE 176 

XIII.  ALICE'S  WEDDING-DAY 189 

XIV.  AT  FORT  HAMILTON 200 

XV.  THE  FORK  IN  THE  ROAD 216 

XVI.  INTO  SILENCE 230 


THE  UNDER  SIDE  OF  THINGS 


THE    MOTHER    OF    ALICE 

IT  was  written  in  the  outlines  of  Mrs.  Copeland's 
nose  that  she  was  a  Code  of  Public  Morals,  which 
you  would  do  well  to  investigate  and  live  by.  So 
remarkable  was  this  eloquent  feature  that  no  de 
scription  could  bring  it  before  you,  no  portrait  do 
it  full  justice,  because  it  shifted  its  position,  not 
upon  her  face — pray  do  not  misunderstand — but 
in  its  attitude  towards  the  world.  It  needed  not 
the  cold  grayness  of  her  near-set  eyes  to  accentu 
ate  its  standard  of  Self,  for  if  you  could  put  your 
hand  over  her  eyes,  still  you  never  would  think  of 
asking  that  nose  for  anything.  No  ill-clad,  des 
perate  man  would  beg  her  to  visit  his  sick  wife  ;  no 
lost  child  ask  her  the  way  home.  Had  she  been  a 
man  it  would  have  been  the  nose  of  a  money-get 
ter,  a  money-lender,  a  usurer. 


2  THE   UNDER   SIDE    OF   THINGS 

The  peculiar  thing  about  it  was  that  it  had  no 
salient  points  by  which  to  describe  it.  You  could 
not  recall  her  to  a  friend  by  referring  to  her  nose, 
for  it  was  neither  hooked  nor  retrousse,  but  once 
you  saw  it  you  never  forgot  it.  It  meant  so  much 
of  what  had  happened,  and  presaged  so  clearly 
what  would  happen.  It  was  neither  large  nor  thin 
nor  high,  and  yet  it  was  all  three,  but  so  cunningly 
were  these  attributes  combined  that  you  noticed 
without  speaking  of  it.  The  nostrils  were  not 
thin  to  show  sensitiveness.  They  were  not  thick. 
They  were  shapeless.  And  in  a  nose  plainly  in 
tended  by  Nature  to  be  pointed,  there  was  an  un 
expected  broadness  in  the  end,  which  meant  suf 
ficiency  unto  itself,  and  a  determined  belief  in  the 
supremacy  of  her  Ego  over  the  Egoes  of  everybody 
else  in  the  world.  Her  nose  challenged  your  pedi 
gree  on  the  spot. 

If  you  had  your  own  life  to  live,  and  your  own 
view  of  how  to  live  it,  Mrs.  Copeland's  nose  be 
came  most  annoying.  There  is  a  virtue  so  blatant 
that  it  becomes  a  vice.  Hers  was  of  that  order. 
You  felt  that  you  ought  to  adopt  it  and  that  she 
thought  so  too,  and  that  if  you  were  in  her  family 
she  would  make  you. 

After  one  critical  look  at  her  nose  you  knew  why 
George  Copeland  went  to  West  Point  when  his 
father  hoped  he  would  be  a  lawyer.  You  knew 


THE    MOTHER    OF    ALICE  3 

why  Alice  Copeland,  having  been  brought  up  by 
her  mother,  loved  her  father  the  best.  You  knew 
why  the  poor  sometimes  refused  to  accept  blankets 
from  her,  which  entitled  her  to  order  their  whole 
future  lives  to  suit  herself.  You  knew  why  beggars 
occasionally  threw  her  bread  back  in  her  face. 
You  knew  why  she  never  gave  generously,  palms 
outward,  but  always  with  her  hands  turned  in. 
You  knew  why,  when  she  sent  a  sick  friend  a 
potted  plant,  she  asked  her  to  return  the  pot;  or  if 
she  sent  her  jelly,  she  asked  her  to  return  the 
glass.  You  knew  why  she  always  walked  to  church 
on  Sundays,  rain  or  shine,  with  her  black  kid 
hands  crossed  over  one  another,  her  whole  attitude 
that  of  an  unrecognized  martyr,  her  stiff  skirts 
breathing  the  Pharisee's  prayer.  And  if  you  were 
a  weak-minded  person,  and  Mrs.  Copeland's  way 
on  a  rainy  Sunday  lay  by  your  house,  you  knew 
why  you  altered  your  feeble  intention  of  staying  at 
home,  and  why  you  went  to  church  too. 

Yet  nobody  ever  discovered  all  this  except  Kate 
Vandevoort,  who  gave  this  description  to  Mollie 
Overshine  after  her  first  interview.  But  then  Kate 
was  frivolous.  Everybody  who  did  not  know  her 
said  so. 

This  morning  all  that  you  could  see  of  Judge 
Copeland  across  the  breakfast-table  was  the  Phila 
delphia  Press.  Undoubtedly  he  was  behind  it,  for 


4  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

no  paper,  no  matter  how  stiff  its  policy,  could  have 
sat  up  there  alone.  Besides,  on  either  side  of  its 
outstretched  pages  you  could  see  the  judge's  fin 
gers,  one  of  which  wore  an  amethyst  ring,  with  the 
crest  of  the  Copelands  embedded  in  it  in  tiny  dia 
monds. 

Mrs.  Copeland  sat  opposite,  behind  the  fat  sil 
ver  coffee  urn,  whose  polished  convex  sides  trans 
formed  her  narrow,  aristocratic  countenance  into 
an  impertinent  cartoon.  It  turned  her  long  nose 
into  the  squat  feature  of  a  South  African,  and  broad 
ened  her  dignified  mouth  daringly.  If  that  urn 
had  not  belonged  to  the  Copelands  for  generations, 
Mrs.  Copeland  never  would  have  tolerated  the  im 
pudence  of  the  caricature.  As  it  was,  she  never 
permitted  the  butler  to  stand  where  he  could  ob 
tain  this  view  of  her.  She  had  been  known  to  dis 
miss  a  maid  without  a  moment's  warning  because 
upon  first  catching  this  glimpse  of  her  new  mis 
tress  in  the  coffee-urn  she  had  burst  out  laughing, 
and,  flinging  her  apron  over  her  head,  had  rushed 
from  the  room  in  confusion.  If  Mrs.  Copeland 
had  possessed  a  sense  of  humor  she  might  have 
forgiven  the  unfortunate  creature.  But  the  out 
rage  to  her  sacred  dignity  was  so  great  that  it  was 
only  partially  wiped  out  by  ordering  the  poor 
maid's  trunk  set  outside  the  gate  in  a  pouring  rain. 
She  never  knew  that  the  judge  quietly  paid  for  the 


THE    MOTHER    OF    ALICE  5 

ruined  clothes  and  a  month's  wages  besides.  And 
it  was  better  so. 

On  one  side  of  the  table  sat  Alice  Copeland. 
You  would  not  consider  her  face  unusual  until  you 
knew  her.  Then  you  wondered  how  she  came  to 
be  so  pretty.  Her  mother  never  realized  how  she 
absorbed  Alice's  personality.  She  still  regarded 
her  as  a  child. 

Opposite  to  her,  on  the  other  side  of  the  table, 
her  younger  brother  squirmed.  Gifford's  years 
are  of  no  importance.  He  was  at  the  age  when 
boys  wriggle.  George,  the  older  boy,  was  at  West 
Point,  and  breakfast  was  half  over  before  little 
Elsie,  long-legged,  thin,  and  sallow,  came  in,  with  a 
martyred  expression,  and  sat  down  without  greet 
ing  any  one.  Mrs.  Copeland  permitted  her  to  do 
this  because  she  was  shy.  As  a  result,  her  man 
ners  were  always  atrocious. 

"  I  see  by  the  paper,"  said  the  judge,  cheerfully, 
looking  over  the  top  of  it,  "that  I  have  been  ap 
pointed  on  the  Board  of  Visitors  to  West  Point." 

The  look  of  quiet  pleasure  faded  from  his  face 
at  his  wife's  distinct  silence,  and  an  anxious  shade 
crossed  it. 

"That  will  be  pleasant,  I  think,  for  then  I  can 
see  George."  He  put  forth  this  remark  as  one  who 
was  accustomed  to  apologize,  not  only  for  himself, 
but  for  existing  circumstances. 


6  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Still  no  reply.  Mrs.  Copeland's  knife  grated 
harshly  through  her  toast,  then  slipped  and  struck 
her  plate.  A  faint  flush  suffused  her  face,  the  un 
mistakable  flush  of  displeasure. 

"  Are  you  pleased,  Mary  ?" 

"I  do  not  like  to  be  informed  of  your  move 
ments  through  the  columns  of  the  newspapers," 
she  said,  icily. 

"But  that  was  only  my  way  of  telling  you, 
dear.  I  thought  it  would  be  a  little  surprise." 

"  I  do  not  like  surprises." 

"  But  I  only  did  it  for  a  jest." 

"  I  do  not  like  jests." 

The  judge's  fine  ruddy  countenance  paled  a  lit 
tle.  He  stirred  his  coffee,  eying  it  absently.  "  I 
would  have  told  you  if  I  myself  had  known  it 
sooner,"  he  said,  looking  up  with  a  smile  meant 
to  propitiate  her. 

"  This  cannot  be  the  first  you  have  heard  of  it," 
she  said,  refusing  his  glance. 

"  No,  but  it  is  the  first  I  knew  of  the  appoint 
ment.  I  only  knew  that  my  name  had  been 
suggested." 

"  I  think  I  might  have  been  trusted  with  so  im 
portant  a  piece  of  news." 

The  judge  colored  at  her  sarcastic  emphasis. 

"  I  know  it  is  not  much  of  an  honor,  dear,  but 
you  know  I  only  accept  these  things  on  your  ac- 


THE   MOTHER   OF   ALICE  7 

count.  I  don't  care  for  them  myself.  I  would 
much  rather  attend  to  my  flowers  and  stay  quietly 
at  home  with  you.  You  are  my  greatest  attrac 
tion." 

"  That  is  right !  Make  me  feel  how  much  of 
your  comfort  you  sacrifice  for  me,"  she  said,  ig 
noring  the  little  compliment  which  many  a  woman 
would  have  hugged  to  her  heart  all  day. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  wife,  I  did  not  mean  it  that  way. 
Pray  pardon  me.  You  surely  could  not  think  me 
so  rude  as  to  insinuate  that  anything  I  do  for  your 
pleasure  is  a  sacrifice." 

She  compressed  her  thin  lips  without  replying. 

"  Who  makes  these  appointments,  father?"  asked 
Alice. 

"  The  President  appoints  the  visitors  at  large, 
and  the  Senate  and  House  each  appoints  some  of 
its  members." 

"  It  is  very  nice,  I  think,  to  be  selected  by  the 
President,  to  have  him  reach  down  into  private 
life  in  that  way,  and  let  you  put  a  ringer  in  the 
government  pie.  It  makes  you  feel  so  American." 

"And  how  else  could  one  possibly  feel  when  one 
is  an  American  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Copeland,  who  was 
of  Scotch  descent. 

"  One  can  feel  any  nationality  here  in  America, 
when  everybody  has  more  liberty  than  native-born 
Americans,"  said  Alice. 


8  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Mrs.  Copeland  frowned,  and  Alice  and  her  fa 
ther  exchanged  sympathetic  glances. 

"  I  thought  of  taking  you  with  me,"  he  said  to 
his  daughter,  with  all  a  man's  unwisdom  as  to  when 
to  broach  a  subject. 

"Alice  cannot  go,"  said  her  mother. 

The  girl's  face  flashed  and  drooped  in  silence 
under  these  two  sentences.  She  knew  better  than 
to  urge  or  coax. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  she  might  like  it,"  said  the 
judge,  dubiously. 

"  It  makes  no  difference  whether  she  would  like 
it  if  I  think  it  unwise  for  her  to  go." 

"  But  I  thought  it  was  time  she  began  to  see  a 
little  of  the  world,"  pursued  the  judge,  anxious  to 
vindicate  his  wisdom  in  the  eyes  of  his  wife.  "  She 
is  eighteen.  You  were  married  at  that  age." 

"  I  think  it  hardly  chivalrous  of  you  to  remind 
me  that  I  have  a  daughter  as  old  as  I  was  when  I 
was  married,"  said  Mrs.  Copeland,  biting  her  words 
off  with  great  distinctness.  "  You  have  an  excel 
lent  way  of  reminding  me  that  I  am  getting  old. 
My  mirror,  however,  anticipates  the  courtesy  of  my 
husband." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  love,  you  misunderstood  me.  To 
me  you  are  just  as  young  and  lovely  as  on  our 
wedding-day,  and  Alice  here  is  a  surprise,  a  curious 
jest  of  Time.  Alice,  you  must  shorten  your  frocks. 


THE    MOTHER    OF    ALICE  9 

It  certainly  is  a  mistake  for  me  to  have  a  grown 
daughter  and  a  wife  who  looks  even  younger." 

"  You  will  see  George  in  his  uniform,  Alice,  if 
father  takes  you  to  West  Point,  and  they  have 
dress  parade  every  afternoon,  and  all  the  cadets 
carry  guns,  and  their  mothers  aren't  there  to  ask 
'em  if  they  are  loaded,"  put  in  Gifford,  with  a  mu 
tinous  look  at  his  mother.  She  smiled  at  this,  for 
he  was  her  idol,  but  she  would  not  trust  him  even 
with  the  picture  of  a  gun,  much  to  his  disgust. 

"  Alice  is  not  going  to  West  Point,"  she  said. 
But  it  was  a  gentler  tone,  and  every  one's  counte 
nance  brightened.  Even  the  butler  stepped  more 
briskly.  He  was  used  to  this  sort  of  thing,  how 
ever.  He  had  been  with  the  Copelands  twelve 
years. 

The  judge,  although  scrupulously  careful  about 
his  diet,  had  dyspepsia.  Perhaps  this  was  because 
he  went  through  with  a  good  deal  at  his  meals  be 
sides  eating,  particularly  at  breakfast,  which  was 
a  pity.  Breakfast  is  bad  enough  in  itself,  without 
any  one  selecting  that  unfortunate  time  to  be  par 
ticularly  disagreeable. 

"  Oh,  let  her  go,  mother !  Let  them  both  go, 
and  we  will  stay  at  home  together.  Or,  no— you 
take  me  to  Philadelphia.  You  promised,  because 
I  had  the  measles.  Now  do  !"  cried  the  real  diplo 
mat  of  the  family,  scrambling  from  his  chair  and 


10  THE   UNDER    SIDE   OF   THINGS 

rushing  up  to  her.  He  trod  upon  her  dress,  but 
she  did  not  push  him  away. 

"  I'll  see  about  it,"  she  said. 

"That  means  that  you  can  go,  Alice,"  he  cried. 
"It  always  means  that,  when  she  says  she  will  see 
about  it." 

Alice  smiled  without  speaking. 

"I'll  go  to  Philadelphia,  too,"  said  little  Elsie, 
suddenly. 

Gifford's  face  clouded.  Alice  shook  her  head 
at  him  imperceptibly,  and  although  he  knew  that 
Elsie's  going  would  spoil  everything  for  him,  he 
smiled  at  her  bravely. 

"You  are  not  well  enough,  Elsie,"  said  Mrs. 
Copeland.  "  You  look  sallow.  I  think  you  ought 
not  to  have  got  up  this  morning." 

Elsie  stopped  eating,  and  refused  her  third  waf 
fle.  She  was  the  sort  of  child  whom  you  could 
make  ill  by  telling  her  she  looked  so. 

"  I  am  ill,  but  I  want  to  go,"  she  whimpered. 

Everybody  looked  up  anxiously. 

"Let  her  go,  mother,"  said  Gifford.  "She'll 
have  hysterics  if  you  don't." 

"  Very  well.  You  can  go,  Elsie.  The  poor  child 
is  able  to  take  so  few  pleasures  !"  sighed  Mrs.  Cope- 
land.  Elsie's  face,  which  had  brightened  at  the 
prospect  of  Philadelphia,  drew  down  to  a  proper 
degree  of  martyrdom  at  her  mother's  last  words. 


THE    MOTHER    OF   ALICE  II 

She  had  everything  in  the  world  she  wanted,  yet 
she  was  always  referred  to  as  "poor  little  Elsie 
Copeland."  Alas,  to  waste  the  heavenly  gift  of 
pity  upon  the  carefully  suffering  rich  ! 

"  I  am  afraid  the  noise  and  crowd  of  the  city 
will  frighten  my  little  bird/'  said  Mrs.  Copeland, 
"  and  make  her  cry." 

"  No,  it  won't,"  said  Elsie. 

Perhaps  it  will  not  be  anticipating  too  much  to 
chronicle  at  this  point  that  Elsie  went  with  them, 
and  began  to  cry  in  the  train,  so  that  by  the  time 
they  were  to  begin  the  excursion  which  was  Gif- 
ford's  reward,  Elsie  was  in  strong  hysterics,  and 
had  to  be  put  to  bed.  Gifford  spent  the  day  with 
his  little  nose  flattened  against  the  hotel  window, 
gazing  into  the  street  and  winking  back  his  tears. 
But  he  was  growing  used  to  it.  Elsie  always  spoiled 
things  for  everybody  wherever  she  went. 

When  Gifford  and  Alice  were  alone,  after  break 
fast,  Gifford  seized  her  hand,  saying  in  an  under 
tone  : 

"  I'll  make  her  let  you  go  to  West  Point,  because 
you  never  told  her  that  I  went  in  swimming  on  Sat 
urday.  You  said  you  were  going  to,  but  you  didn't. 
That's  just  like  a  girl.  And  I'll  make  her  let  you 
and  father  both  go." 

"  Perhaps  you  can't,"  said  Alice,  in  a  spiritless 
voice.  "  I  couldn't." 


12  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  Ho  !  don't  you  know  I  can  make  her  do  any 
thing  ?  That  is,  anything  except  let  me  have  any 
fun  with  guns  and  things.  If  I  were  father,  I'd 
make  her  let  me  have  a  gun.  He  says  I  am  old 
enough." 

"Make  her!"  said  Alice,  aghast.  "Nobody 
ever  makes  mother  do  anything.  You  oughtn't  to 
speak  so." 

"  Ho !  you're  only  a  girl,"  said  Gifford,  scorn 
fully,  which  incontestable  fact  Alice  did  not  at 
tempt  to  disprove. 


II 

A   SMALL   TOWN 

STOCKBRIDGE,  Pennsylvania,  is  situated  on  the 
Delaware  River.  It  was  an  old  town  even  on  the 
day  when  Alice  Copeland  was  declared  old  enough 
to  see  a  little  of  the  world  outside  its  narrow 
limits,  and  that  was  soon  after  the  war,  whose 
echoes  were  still  reverberating  in  women's  ears, 
and  whose  ragged  wounds  were  still  bleeding  in 
women's  hearts.  In  church  the  black-robed  figures 
in  mourning  were  silent  witnesses  of  the  grief  and 
losses  which  Time  had  not  yet  wiped  out.  The 
quiet  of  the  girl's  life  in  conservative  old  Stock- 
bridge  had  been  rendered  even  more  absolute  for 
this  reason,  and  her  education  had  gone  on  with 
out  a  break  caused  by  anything  more  exciting 
than  a  game  of  croquet  in  the  morning  or  a  game 
of  whist  in  the  evening. 

A  small  town  in  the  East  is  as  different  from  a 
small  town  in  these  later  days  in  the  West  as 
black  is  from  white.  Their  chief  point  of  resem- 


14  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

blance  is  that  everybody  knows  everybody's  else 
affairs.  Otherwise  let  no  one  confuse  the  two. 

In  the  West  the  broad  open  streets  given  by 
the  generosity  of  the  never-ending  prairies,  are 
symbolic  of  the  town's  radical  hospitality.  In  the 
East  the  narrow,  thrifty  streets,  jammed  in  between 
the  hills  and  the  sea,  indicate  the  town's  con 
servative  selection  of  guests.  In  the  West  every 
thing  is  new,  nobody  was  born  there,  and  the 
graveyards  are  fresh  and  small  and  bustling.  In 
the  East  everybody  was  born  there,  everything  is 
old,  and  the  graveyards  are  large  and  stately  and 
silent.  In  the  West  there  is  freshly  turned  sod 
and  there  are  miles  of  barbed- wire  fences.  In 
the  East  there  are  stone  walls  and  ivy  and  green 
mould  and  lichens. 

In  the  West  nobody  knows  who  your  grandfather 
was.  In  the  East  everybody  knew  your  great  grand 
father.  In  the  West  to  hustle  is  to  be  great.  In 
the  East  everybody  has  time  to  be  slow,  and  haste 
is  inelegant.  The  provincialism  of  the  West  is 
uncouth  and  broad.  The  provincialism  of  the 
East  is  maddeningly  narrow.  The  innate  feeling 
of  a  young  man  from  a  small  Western  town  that 
he  is  only  one  of  a  tremendous  mass  of  humanity 
and  that  in  order  to  be  individualized  he  must 
boisterously  assert  himself,  that  because  his  family 
name  is  unknown  in  the  great  city  he  must  shout 


A    SMALL    TOWN  15 

it  in  your  ear  and  begin  each  argument  with  the 
premise  that  he  is  just  as  good  as  anybody,  springs 
from  the  nature  of  the  new  West.  This  newness 
largely  consists  of  a  broad,  democratic  brother 
hood,  which  evidences  itself  in  servants  insisting 
upon  being  called  "  help  "  and  upon  dining  with  the 
family.  In  a  town  of  the  same  size  in  the  East, 
caste  is  recognized  from  the  ancient  order  of  things. 
The  banker's  son  who  goes  to  New  York  states  his 
name  modestly  and  expects  it  to  be  known.  Very 
likely  it  is.  If  not,  he  is  neither  hurt  nor  offended. 
His  place  in  the  economy  of  the  universe  is  secure 
even  if  a  few  do  not  know  him.  He  goes  on  about 
his  business  quietly.  It  never  would  occur  to  him 
to  insist  that  he  was  "as  good  as  you  are" — prob 
ably  because,  in  his  secret  heart,  very  quietly  and 
elegantly,  he  thinks  himself  much  better!  Both 
young  fellows,  being  Americans,  are  at  heart 
gentlemen.  Their  manners  alone  betray  the  dif 
ference  in  their  environment,  and  neither  is  to 
blame.  Both  are  creatures  of  circumstance  and 
the  natural  product  of  their  respective  civiliza 
tions. 

Because  Alice  Copeland  had  lived  in  the  small 
town  of  Stockbriclge  all  her  life  was  no  reason 
why  she  was  provincial  in  the  Western  acceptation 
of  the  term.  Her  provincialism  she  inherited 
quite  naturally  from  her  mother,  and  it  only  took 


l6  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

the  mild  form  of  a  feeling  of  indifference  to  all 
the  world  except  Stockbridge  and  Philadelphia. 
The  names  of  the  two  towns  may  differ  in  various 
Eastern  States,  but  their  tolerance  rarely  gets  be 
yond  two,  and  when  it  does,  it  skips  over  to  Lon 
don  and  Paris.  It  never,  for  instance,  comes  to 
include  three — their  own,  New  York,  and  Boston, 
or  their  own,  Philadelphia,  and  New  York.  For 
most  Eastern  people  the  trinity  does  not  exist. 
They  have  fallen  into  a  certain  geographical  uni- 
tarianism. 

If  Alice  was  narrow,  it  was  a  very  gentle  narrow 
ness,  neither  obstinate  nor  froward.  She  was  a 
Scotch  Presbyterian  because  her  mother  was. 
Everybody  knows  that  the  Giffords  of  Philadelphia 
have  always  been  Scotch  Presbyterians.  Alice 
never  discussed  the  matter,  but  she  believed  in 
election  and  predestination,  and  honestly  thought 
that  no  man  could  be  saved  unless  he  were  equally 
firm  in  that  faith,  and  safe  within  the  fold  of  the 
Presbyterian  church,  with  his  name  written  upon 
the  church-books  in  ink.  Such  simple,  iron  con 
viction  admitted  of  no  discussion. 

Stockbridge  had  reason  to  be  proud  of  one  or  two 
of  its  distinctions,  which  set  it  apart  from  its  fellows. 
It  boasted  no  theatre,  but  it  had  nine  churches. 
Of  course  the  Scotch  Presbyterian  was  the  most 
prosperous,  because  the  Copelands  belonged  there. 


A    SMALL    TOWN  17 

Unsaved  Baptists  and  Methodists,  with  their  less 
handsome  edifices,  sometimes  shook  their  heads 
over  the  luxuries  of  the  Presbyterians,  and  smiled 
to  think  what  old  John  Knox  would  have  said  to 
their  cushions  and  velvet  hangings  and  choir.  But 
they  never  mentioned  these  things  to  Mrs.  Cope- 
land.  Somehow  Mrs.  Copeland's  nose  did  not  in 
vite  impertinent  home  thrusts  like  these.  But  the 
truth  of  it  was  that  this  unusual  spectacle  of  a 
rich  church  in  those  times  was  grounded  in  the 
same  fundamental  reasons  which  made  the  Cope- 
land  family  unusual  in  other  respects.  Mrs.  Cope- 
land's  Scotch  blood  made  her  give  steadily  to  her 
church,  and  the  judge's  French  blood  caused  him, 
if  he  gave  at  all,  to  give  lavishly. 

But  there  were  counteracting  influences  which 
kept  down  the  pride  of  the  people  in  the  godli 
ness  and  chastity  of  their  institutions,  one  of 
which  was  the  constant  illness  of  the  inhabitants. 
These  ailments  seldom  ended  fatally.  Indeed  peo 
ple  died  quite  as  often  of  old  age  or  railroad  acci 
dents  in  Stockbridge  as  anywhere  else,  but  surely 
no  town  could  boast  such  varied  chronic  complaints, 
which  just  gently  stirred  people's  sympathy  to  a 
healthy  activity  and  gave  them  an  excuse  for  vis 
iting,  as  Stockbridge.  Nearly  everybody  who  was 
full-grown,  and  there  were  also  quite  a  goodly  num 
ber  of  non-dangerous  infantile  disorders,  had  his 


l8  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

own  private  malady,  which  was  as  distinctive  and 
peculiarly  his  own,  and  as  unavailable  to  others,  as 
his  silver  door-plate.  Indeed,  for  one  family  to  lap 
over  into  another  family's  complaint  without  add 
ing  a  complication  which  made  it  individual  would 
have  been  regarded  as  impertinent  a  trespass  upon 
sacred  privacy  as  for  a  man  to  copy  his  neighbor's 
grave  decoration  in  the  church-yard. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  when  Alice's  visit  to 
West  Point  was  trembling  in  the  balance  a  small 
excitement  took  place  in  the  visit  of  Colonel  and 
Mrs.  Christopher  Overshine. 

The  Overshines  were  next  in  importance  to  the 
Copelands,  but  just  now  the  Overshines  were  in  a 
position  to  cast  a  lustre  by  their  presence  upon 
even  the  Copelands.  Mrs.  Overshine,  knowing  the 
importance  of  having  a  piece  of  news  like  a  divorce 
almost  in  their  immediate  family,  for  John  Vancle- 
voort  was  her  own  second  cousin,  had  held  aloof 
from  everybody,  even  from  Mrs.  Copeland,  to  whom 
her  friends  always  told  everything  first,  as  became 
her  station,  for  something  like  ten  days,  much  to 
Mrs.  Copeland's  secret  annoyance.  Outside  gossip 
was  scarce,  of  course,  in  a  town  like  Stockbridge, 
where  nothing  ever  happened.  Still  Mrs.  Copeland 
thought  there  was  no  sense  in  Mrs.  Overshine's 
acting  as  if  she  were  the  ark  of  the  covenant  just 
because  she  was  in  the  inner  circle  of  a  celebrated 


A   SMALL   TOWN  19 

New  York  divorce  case.  And  when  on  Sunday 
Mrs.  Overshine  went  so  far  as  to  keep  her  veil 
down  all  during  the  sermon,  as  if  being  related 
to  the  Vandevoorts  made  her  sacred,  and  after 
wards  made  her  way  out  of  church  to  her  carriage 
with  her  head  down,  speaking  to  nobody,  Mrs. 
Copeland's  grenadier  spirit  actually  chafed  under 
the  restraint  which  Christianity  imposed. 

Now,  however,  the  Overshines  were  coming  up 
the  walk.  Mrs.  Copeland,  knowing,  of  course,  that 
this  was  Mrs.  Overshine's  first  visit  since  the  details 
of  the  divorce  came,  forgave  her  impertinence  of 
Sunday,  and  even  felt  a  sort  of  respect  for  the 
coup  d'etat  which  had  made  the  presence  of  Mrs. 
Overshine  of  more  importance  than  that  of  any 
other  woman  in  Stockbridge. 

It  was  a  pleasure  to  see  Judge  Copeland  greet 
his  guests.  After  you  had  taken  the  colorless  fin 
gers  of  Mrs.  Copeland,  it  was  like  floating  out  into 
the  Gulf  Stream  to  look  into  his  keen  blue  eyes  and 
to  see  him  bend  over  your  hand  and  to  hear  his 
courtly,  "  Good-day,  madam." 

The  Copeland  house  was  colonial,  and  set  well 
back  on  a  handsome  terrace  fronting  the  river. 
From  all  the  windows  you  could  look  down  upon 
the  sinuous  and  tricky  Delaware  winding  its  indo 
lent  way  to  the  sea.  Indeed,  as  if  to  accommodate  so 
influential  a  family  as  the  Copelands,  it  even  made 


20  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

a  gracious  bend,  and  wandered  past  the  dining- 
room  windows,  so  that  from  all  over  the  house 
you  had  the  loveliest  view  of  its  friendly  ways. 

Colonel  Overshine  limped  to  the  window. 

"  The  old  Delaware  is  quite  high  just  now,  Judge. 
It  doesn't  look  as  though  it  would  ever  get  so  low 
that  the  dust  would  blow  off  it." 

"  No,  no  ;  it  does  not.  It  looks  to  me  as  though 
it  were  deep  enough  to  float  the  Kennebunk.  It  is 
a  great  pity  our  river  is  not  navigable  up  here." 

"  You  are  right.  It  would  straighten  out  a  good 
deal  of  that  snarl  about  freight  rates  if  the  river 
would  step  in  and  say,  '  Here,  use  me.'  " 

"It  would  so.  How  is  your  knee,  Colonel? 
This  damp  weather  give  you  an  extra  twinge  now 
and  then  ?" 

"  Oh  yes.  But  I  am  getting  used  to  it.  You 
can  get  used  to  anything,  you  know,  Judge.  A  man 
could  get  used  to  hanging  if  he  were  hanged  every 
day." 

"  Bad  place  to  have  a  ball,  Colonel.  Never  fails 
to  leave  a  stiff  knee.  John  Feversham — you  know 
Feversham  who  was  colonel  of  the  Thirteenth  Rhode 
Island  and  is  now  captain  in  the  regular  army  ? — 
he  had  a  stiff  knee  for  two  years,  but  he  got  rid  of 
it  in  some  way.  He's  all  right  now." 

"Gad,  I  wish  I  knew  how  he  did  it,"  said  Colo 
nel  Overshine,  sitting  down,  his  lame  leg  stretched 


A    SMALL    TOWN  21 

out  stiffly  before  him.  "  I  hear  about  these  mar 
vellous  cures,  but  I  never  see  them.  Every  once  in 
a  while  me  wife  discovers  a  sure  cure  for  a  bald 
head.  But  look  at  mine.  Me  two  complaints  are 
a  bald  head  and  a  lame  leg,  and  I  expect  to  die  in 
full  possession  of  both  of  them." 

The  maid  entered  with  a  tray.  Mrs.  Copeland, 
being  a  total  abstainer,  never  served  wine  to  her 
guests,  but  there  was  sure  to  be  lemonade  and  co- 
coanut  cake  in  abundance. 

"  And  she  began  to  behave  badly  soon  after 
they  were  married,"  Mrs.  Overshine  was  saying. 

Both  men  forgot  what  they  were  talking  about 
and  listened. 

"  Me  wife's  cousin,  John  Vandevoort,"  murmured 
Colonel  Overshine. 

"  I  have  no  patience  with  John  that  he  did  not 
take  her  in  hand  at  once,"  said  Mrs.  Copeland, 
who  loved  to  direct  other  people's  families. 

"  Yes  ;  but  you  .know  John.  He  is  too  gentle  and 
lovely  to  take  a  fly  in  hand,  let  alone  that  woman, 
who,  as  you  know,  is  a  wonderfully  attractive  creat 
ure  when  she  wants  to  be ;  accomplished,  clever, 
sings  well,  and  they  say  she  has  written  a  book." 

Mrs.  Copeland  threw  up  both  hands.  "  Poor 
John  !"  she  said.  "  Is  it  published  ?" 

"  No  ;  and  it  may  never  be,  now." 

Mrs.   Copeland  gave   a  sigh  of  relief.     Things 


22  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF   THINGS 

were  very  bad  indeed  with  poor  John  Vandevoort, 
but  not  as  bad  as  they  might  be. 

"  She  is  perfectly  well  and  strong,  I  believe," 
said  Mrs.  Copeland,  "  so  John  has  not  had  illness 
to  contend  with." 

"  Oh  no  ;  she  has  some  trouble  which  causes  her 
to  go  into  hysterics  every  time  she  loses  her  temper. 
She  gets  violent  at  times.  John  says  he  thinks  her 
mind  is  affected." 

"Mind!"  said  Mrs.  Copeland.  "Temper!  I 
know  her.  I  saw  her  when  I  went  to  New  York 
to  hear  Sontag.  She  weighed  nearly  two  hundred 
pounds  last  winter,  if  I  am  any  judge  of  weight 
from  seeing  a  woman  in  so  shameless  an  evening 
dress  as  she  wore." 

"  I  think  so  too.  If  John  only  had  made  a  stand 
when  they  were  first  married  !  He  says  he  couldn't. 
When  he  told  me  of  some  of  her  tantrums  I  said 
to  him,  'John,  a  good  shaking  would  do  her  good.' 
And  he  said,  '  Cousin  Mollie,  she  is  the  mother  of 
my  children.'  Now  you  know  I  couldn't  say  a 
word  after  that." 

"  Children  ?     I  thought  there  was  only  one." 

"  No,  two  ;  Frances  and  Margaret — Peggy,  they 
call  her." 

"  What  will  be  done  with  them  ?" 

"  John  says  I  am  to  have  them  for  a  time." 

"  And  bring  them  here  ?" 


A    SMAL1     TOWN  23 

"  Yes." 

Mrs.  Copeland  cleared  her  throat  in  a  pleased 
way.  She  was  glad  she  was  going  to  see  some  of 
this  trying  and  sad  affair. 

"Where  is  Alice?"  asked  Mrs.  Overshine. 

Mrs.  Copeland  eyed  her  sharply,  knowing  that 
Mrs.  Overshine  knew  and  was  overjoyed  at  the 
knowledge  that  Alice  was  out  with  Frank  Over- 
shine.  Mrs.  Overshine  only  wanted  to  make  Mrs. 
Copeland  admit  it. 

"  She  went  to  the  archery  meeting,  I  believe." 

"  No,  the  Archery  Club  meets  on  Friday.  This 
is  only  Tuesday." 

"  Oh,  then  it  must  have  been  the  Canoe  Club." 

"  Did  she  go  alone  ?" 

"  No,  Ellen  St.  Francis  went  with  her." 

"  And  did  those  two  girls  go  alone  ?" 

"  No,  one  of  the  young  boys  in  the  neighborhood 
went  with  them." 

Mrs.  Overshine  retired  from  the  field,  and  rocked 
her  chair  in  exasperated  silence. 

"  That  is  a  handsome  ring  you  have  on,  Judge," 
said  Colonel  Overshine.  "  Have  I  ever  seen  it 
before?" 

"  I  think  not.  My  wife  gave  it  to  me  on  my  last 
birthday,"  said  the  judge,  taking  it  off  and  handing 
it  to  him. 

"  Very  fine  stone.     What  is  the  design  ?" 


24  THE    UNDER    MDE    OF    THINGS 

Judge  Copeland  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  set  his 
finger  tips  together,  and  looked  at  the  ceiling.  Mrs. 
Copeland  laid  down  her  fancy  work.  She  was 
never  without  either  her  fancy  work  or  her  Bible. 
If  laid  out  in  a  straight  line,  she  must  have  done 
miles  of  fancy  work.  If  read  in  a  straight  line,  she 
must  have  read  miles  in  her  Bible. 

She  rested  her  long  slim  hands,  glittering  with 
rings,  upon  her  crewel-work — which  in  after-years 
passed  through  the  various  stages  of  fashionable 
fancy  work,  through  silk  knitting,  tatting,card-board 
embroidery,  and  from  that  into  centrepieces  and 
drawn-work — and  Colonel  Overshine  looked  towards 
her.  Mrs.  Overshine  went  on  rocking  rather  aggres 
sively.  She  knew  exactly  what  Mrs.  Copeland  was 
about  to  tell.  She  had  heard  it  before,  dozens  of 
times.  She  knew  just  how  she  would  tell  it,  how 
deprecating  she  would  look  at  the  mention  of  the 
count's  name,  as  who  should  say,  "  Of  course  we  are 
not  to  blame  for  having  a  count  among  our  ances 
tors,"  and  she  knew  how  she  would  pause  and  lower 
her  voice  before  mentioning  the  duke's  name,  for 
here  the  narrative  grew  really  sacred.  She  knew  it 
all,  and  followed  it  word  by  word  as  Mrs.  Copeland 
began. 

"That  ring,  Colonel,  contains  the  crest  of  the 
Copeland  family.  Copeland  is  French,  you  know, 
and  was  originally  Copelin.  The  descent  of  the 


A    SMALL    TOWN  25 

judge's  branch  of  the  family  is  very  direct  through 
the  Comte  de  Copelin,  clear  back  to  the  Due  de 
Copelin,  his  most  famous  ancestor." 

Mrs.  Copeland  never  went  further  back  than  the 
Due  de  Copelin,  for  if  she  had  done  so  she  must 
inevitably  have  soiled  her  clean  Presbyterian  lips 
by  the  admission  that  the  famous  duke's  mother 
had  been  a  court  favorite  under  Louis  XIV.,  who 
had  created  her  Duchesse  de  Copelin,  and  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  Copeland  fortune  by  the  presenta 
tion  of  the  estates,  which  had  since,  however,  passed 
into  other  hands  and  bear  another  name. 

She  could  not  be  expected  to  admit  that  the 
Copeland  family  crest,  embroidered  by  her  own 
fingers  upon  every  piece  of  linen  in  the  house,  from 
sheets  and  table-cloths  down  to  doilies  and  hand 
kerchiefs,  had  had  its  origin  in  such  a  blot  upon 
the  family  honor. 

"  Very  fine,"  said  Colonel  Overshine. 

"We  have  records,"  proceeded  Mrs.  Copeland, 
with  dignity,  "  of  the  military  exploits  of  these 
famous  men,  especially  those  of  the  Due  de  Cope 
lin." 

"  Me  wife  has  all  the  ancestors  in  our  family," 
said  Colonel  Overshine,  with  ill-placed  jocularity ; 
"  all  I  know  of  mine  is  that  me  grandfather  was 
hanged  for  being  a  pirate." 

It  is  an  old  joke,  but  one  very  dear  to  the  heart 


26  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

of  the  American  man  whose  wife  is  interested  in 
family  trees. 

Mrs.  Copeland  colored  with  displeasure.  Mrs. 
Overshine  smiled.  The  colonel's  grandfather  had 
been  governor  of  Rhode  Island.  Judge  Copeland, 
although  relieved  to  have  the  oft-repeated  narrative 
broken  off,  looked  anxiously  at  his  wife,  but  she 
had  taken  up  her  fancy  work  again,  and  had  retired 
from  the  conversation.  She  turned  her  attention 
back  to  Mrs.  Overshine. 

"  What  will  become  of  Emily  after  she  gets  her 
divorce  ?" 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know." 

"  How  distressing  that  she  left  him  and  now  sues 
on  the  ground  of  desertion." 

"Very." 

"  Will  he  contest  it  ?" 

"  I  think  not." 

"He  could,  though,"  put  in  Colonel  Overshine. 
"  He  has  plenty  of  grounds  against  her,  but  he  will 
not.  He  says  he  did  not  marry  her  to  take  advan 
tage  of  a  woman's  weakness.  It  is  exasperating  to 
hear  him  talk.  All  he  wants  is  to  have  the  custody 
of  the  children.  She  is  capricious  and  utterly  irre 
sponsible.  One  week  she  loves  them  to  death,  and 
the  next  week  they  never  see  her.  They  are  the 
sweetest,  cleverest,  worst  children  I  ever  saw ;  keen 
as  razors,  honest  as  the  day — just  like  John — own 


A    SMALL    TOWN  27 

up  to  anything  they  have  done,  and  the  older  one, 
Frances,  is  as  pretty  as  a  picture." 

Just  then  Gifford  Copeland  burst  into  the  room. 

"  Softly,  my  son,"  said  the  judge. 

"  Good-evening,  Mrs.  Overshine.  There  are  two 
children  and  a  lady  at  your  house.  They  have  just 
come  in  on  the  train.  And  they  want  to  see  you 
immediately!" 

Mrs.  Overshine  rose  hastily. 

"  I  wonder  if  it  can  be  Emily  ?"  said  Mrs.  Cope- 
land. 

"  It  would  be  just  like  her  to  come  into  our  house 
with  her  family,  and  fight  our  cousin,  her  husband, 
from  under  our  roof,"  growled  Colonel  Overshine. 

"  Let  me  know  if  it  is  Emily,"  said  Mrs.  Cope- 
land,  at  the  door. 

"  Very  well.  Perhaps  I'll  send  you  word  by  '  one 
of  the  young  boys  in  the  neighborhood,'  "  said  Mrs. 
Overshine,  sweetly. 

Mrs.  Copeland  smiled.  She  always  smiled  when 
another  woman  showed  temper. 


Ill 

ALICE    GOES    TO    WEST    POINT 

IN  some  way,  Gifford  had  managed  it  as  he  said 
he  would,  and  Alice  was  going  to  West  Point. 

Gifford  and  his  sister  were  on  more  friendly 
terms  than  many  small  boys  and  their  older  sisters. 
There  was  an  open-hearted,  chivalrous  generosity 
about  Gifford  which  would  make  his  way  through  life 
quite  easy,  and  there  was  a  gentleness  about  Alice 
which  appealed  to  the  native  manliness  in  Gifford, 
and  made  him  want  to  "look  out  for  Alice."  He 
considered  her  just  the  kind  of  a  girl  to  be  imposed 
upon,  and,  young  as  he  was,  he  already  had  begun 
to  stand  between  her  and  her  mother,  who  was  the 
one  who  profited  most  acutely  by  Alice's  sweetness. 

Gifford  came  out  to  the  carriage-step  to  see  them 
off.  Mrs.  Copeland  was  up-stairs  with  a  headache, 
a  dark  room,  and  smelling-salts. 

It  was  so  early  in  the  morning  the  horses  tossed 
their  heads  impatiently  and  stamped  their  slim 
hoofs,  for  it  was  a  glorious  day. 


ALICE    GOES    TO    WEST    POINT  2g 

"  Are  you  all  right,  sis  ?"  asked  Gifford,  helping 
her  in. 

"  Yes,  thank  you,  dear.  Don't  be  disappointed 
that  mother  is  too  ill  to  take  you  to  Philadelphia." 

"  Ho,  we'll  go  before  you  get  back.  Don't  you 
worry  about  that.  Good-bye,  good-bye.  Have  a 
good  time,  and  don't  you  come  home  until  you 
want  to,  Alice.  I'll  take  care  of  mother  for  you. 
Good-bye !" 

He  kept  shouting  after  the  carriage  until  it  was 
lost  to  view  around  a  bend. 

The  river  road  to  the  station  is  so  beautiful  that 
it  hurts  you.  It  makes  your  throat  ache  and  your 
eyes  smart,  and  you  have  to  swallow  hard  and 
often,  for  the  beauty  of  it  goes  to  your  heart. 

The  Delaware  was  at  her  best,  high  and  proud, 
yet  full  of  a  tender  humility  under  the  caresses  of 
the  morning,  like  a  proud  woman  conscious  of  her 
own  beauty,  yet  willing  to  bend  her  pride  to  gen 
tleness  under  the  influence  of  love. 

Father  and  daughter  drove  nearly  all  the  way  in 
silence,  conscious  of  each  other's  fulness  of  heart, 
and  unwilling  to  break  the  spell  by  trivialities. 
Sometimes  they  looked  at  each  other  and  smiled, 
and  once,  when  they  made  a  sudden  turn  which 
flashed  into  view  a  long,  narrow  island  almost  cov 
ered  with  green  grass,  like  a  great  emerald  marquise 
ring  set  in  the  centre  of  the  river,  Alice  slipped 


30  THE    UNDER   SIDE    OF    THINGS 

her  little  gloved  hand  into  her  father's  with  sympa 
thetic  understanding. 

Pacing  up  and  down  the  station  platform,  wait 
ing  for  the  same  train  they  were  to  take,  Alice  saw 
a  tall  young  woman,  whose  black  veil,  dropping 
from  her  little  round  hat,  concealed  her  features, 
and  only  revealed  at  the  back  a  wealth  of  auburn 
hair,  dressed  in  the  prevailing  fashion,  resembling 
a  peck  measure.  Her  waist  was  the  smallest,  her 
crinoline  the  largest,  her  skirts  the  most  volumi 
nous  that  Alice  ever  had  seen.  Her  whole  costume 
had  "New  York"  stamped  as  unmistakably  upon 
it  as  were  the  modest  folds  of  Alice  Copeland's 
labelled  "  Stockbridge,  Pennsylvania."  She  was  tall 
and  sweeping,  and  Alice  thought  she  never  had 
seen  anything  so  graceful  as  the  way  she  walked 
and  managed  her  skirts.  Alice  watched  her  all  the 
way  to  New  York,  for  without  being  nervous  or 
vivacious,  she  was  always  moving — always  doing 
something  worth  looking  at.  Everybody  else  was 
looking  at  her  too,  for  although  her  veil  was  still 
down,  she  had  the  assured  manners  of  a  beauty, 
and  she  seemed  to  exercise  a  certain  fascination 
upon  every  one  in  the  car  who  sat  within  range  of 
her. 

Her  own  carriage  was  waiting  for  her,  and  she 
gave  no  directions,  only  nodded  to  the  footman  in 
answer  to  his  salute,  stepped  in  ;  the  door  slammed, 


ALICE    GOES    TO    WEST    POINT  31 

the  man  sprang  upon  the  box,  folded  his  arms — 
and  they  were  off. 

Alice  actually  sighed  as  she  disappeared.  She 
was  foolish  and  young  and  still  had  her  ideals.  Oh, 
lovely  age,  no  matter  when  it  comes,  when  we  can 
watch  a  fellow-traveller  under  a  veil  and  fancy  her 
beautiful  enough  to  love  and  believe  her  good 
enough  to  follow  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  ! 

Keep  it,  Alice  Copelancl,  as  long  as  you  can.  It 
means  much  more  than  an  idle  infatuation.  It 
means  youth,  and  innocence,  and  unshattered  ideals, 
and  the  song  of  birds  and  eternal  spring-time  in 
one's  life.  Be  foolish  and  unwise  while  you  can. 
Once  you  lose  the  capacity,  it  never  comes  again. 
Once  you  begin  to  know,  you  begin  to  hate.  What 
need  have  butterflies  and  lambs  and  song-birds 
and  young  girls  of  wisdom  ? 

"  Venus  went  to  Minerva,  and  said,  '  Teach  me 
wisdom.'  '  If  I  do,'  said  Minerva,  'you  never  again 
can  be  the  Goddess  of  Love.' " 

Judge  Copeland  always  went  to  the  Astor  House 
when  in  New  York.  He  had  been  going  to  the  Astor 
House  for  twenty-five  years.  He  had  seen  it  in  its 
jubilee  days,  before  the  war,  when  all  the  Southern 
society  girls  spent  their  winters  there,  when  it  oc 
cupied  a  proud  position  in  the  way  of  celebrated 
beauties  and  aristocratic  inmates.  It  was  the  ral 
lying  place  for  all  the  flower  and  wealth  of  the 


32  THE   UNDER   SIDE    OF    THINGS 

South,  and  it  witnessed  such  scenes  of  gayety 
among. first  families  as  now  only  occur  in  country- 
houses  during  the  season.  No  hotel  has  ever  been 
in  this  respect  what  the  Astor  House  was  before 
the  war.  It  was  like  a  great  house  party,  with  all 
the  privacy  of  one's  own  apartments,  or  all  the 
friendliness  one  chose  to  bestow. 

Although  much  of  its  glory  had  departed,  Alice 
enjoyed  any  large  hotel  too  much  to  be  a  captious 
critic,  nor  was  she  one  to  seek  after  strange  gods. 
The  old,  the  established  order  of  things  suited  her 
simple  tastes  better  than  the  fashionable  and  newer 
hotels  to  which  most  girls  would  have  inclined. 

After  dinner  they  went  to  see  Charlotte  Gush- 
man  as  Meg  Merrilies. 

Alice  never  forgot  that  night.  She  sat  in  a  box 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  and  lost  herself  so  com 
pletely  in  the  play,  and  the  dazzling  rows  of  lights, 
and  the  music,  and  the  sense  of  being  removed  from 
the  people  and  of  being  in  some  way  different  from 
all  that  she  ever  had  been  before,  that  she  paid  little 
heed  to  the  gentleman  in  their  box — a  certain  Sena 
tor  Cobb,  from  Ohio,  one  of  their  party  on  the 
Board  of  Visitors.  After  one  glance  Alice  hardly 
looked  at  him.  She  was  no  judge  of  art ;  for  in 
that  one  glance  she  decided  that  he  might  be  a 
youngish  man  who  looked  old,  or  an  oldish  man 
who  looked  young. 


ALICE    GOES    TO    WEST    POINT  33 

But  Senator  Cobb,  so  far  from  feeling  hurt  by 
her  indifference,  was  piqued  into  more  acute  inter 
est  in  her  than  perhaps  otherwise  he  might  have 
felt.  The  few  years  which  had  elapsed  since 
his  accession  to  the  Senate  and  his  wife's  death 
had  been  filled  so  full  of  attentions  from  ladies  pos 
sessing  three  eyes — their  own  and  a  weather  eye,  for 
the  senator's  fortune  was  so  large  it  was  nebulous 
— that  it  seemed  to  him  he  always  had  been  an 
eligible  and  the  recipient  of  this  manifest  interest. 
It  is  so  easy  for  one's  Ego  to  grow  accustomed  to 
spelling  itself  with  a  capital,  and  to  forget  that  one's 
old  friends  had  hitherto  always  spelled  it  with  a 
small  letter. 

The  truth  of  it  was  that  the  Cobbs,  of  Phoenix, 
Ohio,  were  plain  and  simple  folk.  The  first  year  in 
Washington  had  killed  the  faithful  little  woman 
who  had  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  her  hus 
band  through  all  their  unfortunate  years,  slaving  at 
work  much  too  hard  for  her,  and  keeping  up  his 
spirit  until  coal  was  discovered  right  under  the  very 
mortgage,  you  might  say,  which  they  were  trying  to 
lift.  It  proved  to  have  such  power  of  raising  things 
that  it  blew  not  only  the  mortgage  from  overhead, 
but  it  lifted  the  Cobbs  into  social  and  political  pow 
er  in  Phoenix  with  such  force  that  it  finally  landed 
them  in  Washington. 

Perhaps  it  is  hardly  fair,  for  the  honor  of  our  na- 


34  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

tional  politics,  to  ascribe  all  this  to  coal — for  the 
senator  possessed  undoubted  ability,  and  made  a 
very  good  senator  as  senators  go.  But  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  except  for  the  coal  Joel  Cobb's  abilities 
would  never  have  been  discovered  by  the  enthusias 
tic  citizens  of  Phoenix.  And  yet,  when  all  is  said, 
it  does  not  require  either  coal  or  enthusiasm  or 
ability  to  make  of  a  candidate  •'  a  dark  horse."  And 
it  was  as  the  "  dark  horse  "  that  Joel  Cobb  found 
himself  in  the  Senate. 

Once  in  Washington,  however,  the  coal  was  of 
inestimable  benefit — except  that  the  social  swim 
into  which  it  floated  them  sucked  down  his  poor 
little  adoring  wife  and  left  him  a  widower. 

But  he  was  not  an  unusual  man  on  certain  lines, 
consequently  he  never  knew  that  anything  except 
Washington  life  had  killed  her.  Neither  did  he 
know  that  she  had  worked  too  hard.  Neither  did 
he  know  that  it  was  her  indomitable  pluck  and  en 
couragement  that  had  kept  a  roof  over  their  heads 
until  coal  could  be  discovered.  It  was  as  if  her  grip 
on  affairs  had  only  lasted  until  some  one  else  would 
take  the  helm.  For  when  she  began  to  rest  it  was 
the  beginning  of  the  long  rest.  Her  resting -time 
came  too  late. 

The  senator  did  not  know  this,  nor  would  he  be 
lieve  it  if  he  could  read  this  veracious  history,  for 
it  would  be  a  difficult  as  well  as  an  unkind  thing  to 


ALICE    GOES    TO  WEST  POINT  35 

dislodge  the  idea  of  his  own  importance,  seeing  that 
he  derived  his  chief  happiness  in  life  from  fostering 
that  harmless  fallacy.  It  would  have  upset  his  dig 
nity  and  hurt  his  vanity  to  give  any  credit  for  his 
career  to  the  exhausted  little  woman  who  slept  in 
the  graveyard  at  Phoenix  beside  her  crippled  boy. 
Indeed,  his  most  famous  campaign  speech  contained 
these  stirring  lines : 

"  Single-handed  and  alone,  from  a  poor,  unknown 
boy  following  the  plough  day  after  day,  season  after 
season,  with  no  encouragement  from  man,  woman, 
or  child,  with  not  one  hand  held  out  to  offer  the 
help  I  so  sorely  needed,  poor,  ignored,  uncared 
for,  I,  a  simple  farmer's  lad,  with  only  my  country's 
good  at  heart,  dreamed  great  dreams  of  this  hour, 
and  hewed  my  unaided  way  to  success.  (Loud 
applause.) 

"  Single-handed  and  alone  have  I  risen  step  by 
step,  with  only  brain  and  brawn  to  aid  me.  But, 
buoyed  up  by  the  noble  motto  '  Pro  bono  publico,' 
I  come  before  you  at  this  time  to  lay  whatever 
wealth  I  may  have  built  up,  my  highest  powers  of 
heart  and  head,  at  my  country's  feet,  and  to  serve 
her  to  the  best  of  my  ability  in  any  capacity  to 
which  she  may  see  fit  to  call  me."  (Prolonged  ap 
plause.) 

It  was  a  great  speech,  although,  of  course,  this  is 
only  a  sample,  and,  perhaps,  an  unfair  one.  It  was 


36  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

much  more  impressive  and  stirring  to  hear  him  de 
liver  it ;  for  there  he  stood  before  them,  a  living 
example  to  all  other  poor  boys  who,  like  him,  single- 
handed  and  alone  have  hewed  or  are  hewing  their 
way  to  fame  and  fortune  with  no  assistance  from 
their  toiling,  moiling  wives,  if  they  happen  to  have 
such  a  bit  of  machinery  in  the  house. 

Senator  Cobb,  however,  possessed  many  of  the 
qualifications  of  the  successful  politician,  one  of 
which  he  displayed  in  the  tact  he  employed  with 
Alice  Copeland  on  that  night  when  lie  first  met 
her.  For,  during  the  play,  seeing  that  she  was 
absorbed,  he  contented  himself  with  looking  at 
her.  But  at  the  little  supper  afterwards,  whither 
they  betook  themselves,  he  made  himself  exceed 
ingly  agreeable  for  an  old  gentleman — Alice  had 
a  better  light  on  him  then — and  she  was  grateful 
to  him  for  taking  such  an  interest  in  her  and  her 
simple  affairs. 

Had  Alice  been  less  modest  or  more  self-con 
scious,  she  might  have  seen  that  several,  other  than 
Senator  Cobb,  fixed  their  eyes  on  the  fresh-com- 
plexioned  girl  in  the  front  of  the  box  who  sat  so 
still  and  followed  the  play  with  such  breathless  in 
terest,  among  them  the  same  tall  young  woman 
with  auburn  hair  who  had  travelled  with  her  from 
Stockbridge.  She  watched  Alice  through  her  op 
era-glasses,  and  seemed  bored  by  her  companions, 


ALICE    GOES    TO    WEST    POINT  37 

but  Alice  was  too  far  off  and  too  much  absorbed 
to  recognize  her. 

The  next  morning,  just  as  they  were  leaving  for 
the  boat,  a  great  box  from  the  florist's  was  sent  to 
Alice  with  Senator  Cobb's  card  in  it.  She  gave  a 
little  cry  of  delight  when  she  opened  it.  Instead 
of  roses,  it  was  filled  with  spring  flowers — crocus 
es,  jonquils,  hyacinths,  lilies- of  -  the -valley,  helio 
trope,  and  mignonette.  The  very  breath  of  spring 
came  with  it,  and  rose  and  floated  out  through  the 
room. 

"What  a  nice  old  gentleman!"  she  said  to  her 
father,  who  was  bending  over  the  flowers  scarcely 
less  enchanted  than  she.  "  But  what  shall  I  do 
with  them  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  must  take  them  with  us.  See  how  they 
seem  to  watch  us  out  of  their  little  faces.  Flow 
ers  are  almost  human,  Alice,  especially  these  baby 
spring  flowers.  Of  course  we  must  take  them." 

So  their  way  to  the  boat  was  traced  by  a  very 
small  black  man  bearing  a  very  large  white  box, 
which  was  deposited  with  more  care  and  far  more 
minute  instructions  than  they  bestowed  upon  their 
luggage.  Then  they  went  on  deck  and  leaned 
over  the  railing,  watching  the  boat  put  off  from 
her  pier,  and  steam  her  slow  way  between  all  the 
other  craft,  in  the  first  stage  of  her  beautiful  jour 
ney  up  the  Hudson. 


IV 
ALICE  AND    KATE    VANDEVOORT 

ELDERLY  admirers  with  unctuous  manners  and 
an  oily  skin  can  make  themselves  very  revolting  to 
sensitive  young  ladies  with  romantic  tendencies. 
It  was  on  this  journey  that  the  mentally  dwarfing 
fact  was  forced  even  upon  Alice  Copeland's  unsus 
picious  nature  that  Senator  Cobb — her  "nice  old 
gentleman" — had  sent  her  those  flowers  in  the 
guise  of  a  suitor.  This  startling  discovery  so  up 
set  Alice's  usually  gentle  equilibrium  that  the  love 
ly  journey  was  completely  spoiled  for  her — in  point 
of  fact,  she  hardly  saw  it. 

No  one  knows  what  the  senator  said  to  her. 
The  only  evidences  of  her  discomfort  to  be  seen 
were  the  scarlet  cheeks  and  downcast  eyes  of  the 
girl  while  Senator  Cobb  was  talking  to  her.  He 
must  have  given  her  quite  plainly  to  understand 
his  intentions  concerning  her,  as  elderly  admirers 
with  large  fortunes  have  a  little  way  of  doing,  for 
the  moment  she  could  escape  from  him  she  hurried 


ALICE    AND    KATE    VANDEVOORT  39 

to  his  box  of  flowers,  and,  watching  for  a  favorable 
moment,  she  nerved  herself  to  the  ordeal  of  throw 
ing  the  whole  thing  overboard  in  the  wake  of  the 
steamer. 

Alice  thought  no  one  had  seen  her,  for  it  was 
near  dusk,  but  a  tall  young  woman  with  auburn 
hair  was  sitting  in  the  shadow  and  watching  her 
with  amused  eyes.  Evidently  she  was  clever  at  un 
derstanding  situations,  for  she  clapped  her  gloved 
hands  softly  together,  and  whispered  "  Good  "  under 
her  breath,  and  half  rose  as  if  to  go  to  the  girl,  then 
sank  back  in  her  place,  shaking  her  head  as  if  at 
her  own  folly. 

Alice  Copeland  was  an  odd  girl.  She  could  nerve 
herself  to  a  display  of  spirit  like  the  flinging  of  that 
box  of  flowers  away,  but  she  could  not  bring  her 
self  to  tell  her  father  why.  When  he  discovered 
their  loss  and  asked  after  them  in  much  the  same 
tone  of  anxiety  he  would  have  used  if  Gifford  had 
disappeared,  Alice  admitted  that  she  had  thrown 
them  overboard. 

"  Thrown  them  overboard  ?  Why,  Alice,  child, 
what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  Are  you  ill  ?  To 
throw  flowers  overboard !  Why  didn't  you  give 
them  to  some  one?  Why  didn't  you  tell  me?  I 
would  have  removed  them." 

"  They  smelled  too  sweet,"  said  Alice,  with  a 
show  of  petulance  quite  foreign  to  her. 


4O  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

She  looked  suspiciously  at  her  father  to  see  if  he 
knew  of  any  cause,  but  he,  being  a  man,  had  seen 
nothing.  He  regarded  her  anxiously,  however,  and 
felt  her  hands  to  see  if  she  were  feverish. 

Their  arrival  at  West  Point  was  likewise  marred 
for  Alice  in  that  George  did  not  prove  the  haven 
of  refuge  that  she  had  hoped,  but  both  he  and  his 
father  seemed  pleased  to  allow  Senator  Cobb  to 
look  after  her  wraps  and  to  constitute  himself  her 
escort.  This  willing  acquiescence  on  their  part  so 
wrought  upon  Alice,  together  with  the  fatuous  at 
tentions  of  the  senator,  that  she  lost  what  little  self- 
control  she  ordinarily  possessed,  and  allowed  her 
anxiety  to  be  seen  plainly  in  her  face. 

That  evening,  when  the  commandant  and  many 
of  the  cadets  flocked  to  Cozzens's  to  call  upon  the 
visitors,  Alice  was  handed  about  from  one  to  an 
other  of  her  father's  friends,  meeting  them  me 
chanically,  bowing  to  them  like  an  automaton,  and 
all  the  time  wishing  herself  well  back  in  Stock- 
bridge.  She  felt  that  she  could  even  endure  the 
obnoxious  attentions  of  Frank  Overshine,  who 
would  wear  hats  so  large  for  him  that  they  touched 
his  ears.  She  thought  indulgently  of  his  wide 
mouth— the  kind  of  a  mouth  which  always  goes 
with  a  frank,  open  countenance  and  that  sort  of  a 
hat — when  she  compared  his  capabilities  of  being 
snubbed  into  faint-heartedness  with  the  confident 


ALICE    AND    KATE    VANDEVOORT  41 

smile  of  Senator  Cobb  and  his  deadly  habit  of 
"washing  his  hands  in  invisible  soap,"  which  so 
held  Alice's  eyes  that  she  could  not  leave  off  look 
ing  at  them. 

She  had  been  cornered  by  the  senator  all  that 
first  evening.  She  had  seen  the  gray-coated  cadets 
pass  to  and  fro.  She  had  met  a  number  of  her 
brother's  friends.  She  had  answered  fully  fifty 
times  the  question  as  to  what  kind  of  a  journey 
she  had,  with  a  mechanical  "  Very  pleasant,  thank 
you,"  and  had  said  "yes"  to  another  fifty  who  want 
ed  to  know  if  this  was  her  first  visit  to  West  Point. 
She  remembered  none  of  their  names.  The  cadets 
all  looked  alike  to  her.  It  seemed  to  her  as  though 
there  were  hundreds  of  white  duck  trousers  and 
gray  coats  with  brass  buttons.  She  said  over  and 
over  that  she  had  seen  nothing  of  West  Point,  but 
she  thought  she  should  like  it  very  much.  And  the 
young  fellows  who  asked  her  these  intelligent  ques 
tions  were  somewhat  puzzled  by  her  pleading  blue 
eyes,  and  it  almost  stirred  one  or  two  of  them  to 
promise  to  do  anything  for  her  if  she  would  only 
speak  out  and  tell  them  what  she  wanted.  And 
all  the  time  her  father  and  George  were  near  by 
and  saw  nothing  of  her  distress,  and  all  the  time 
Senator  Cobb  stood  guard  at  her  elbow  and  allowed 
no  one  to  displace  him,  until  suddenly  into  the 
room  walked  a  tall  young  woman  in  a  white  dress 


42  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

with  yellow  roses  at  her  belt  and  one  against  her 
bronze  hair.  She  seemed  to  know  everybody,  bow 
ing  and  smiling  with  perfect  ease  and  unconcern 
to  those  who  thronged  around  her,  but  moving 
slowly  yet  surely  to  where  Alice  Copeland  sat  with 
her  wistful  eyes  drinking  in  the  beauty  of  the  new 
comer,  who  finally  paused  just  in  front  of  her,  look 
ing  down  and  smiling  in  such  a  frank  and  friendly 
way  that  Alice  flushed  and  rose  to  her  feet  and 
smiled  back  at  her  quite  as  if  she  had  known  her 
always. 

Senator  Cobb  rose  also,  and  stood  with  his  hands 
under  his  coat-tails  and  a  nervous  smile  on  his  face. 

"  The  senator  will  not  introduce  us,  you  see,  Miss 
Copeland,  because  he  knows  that  I  have  come  to 
usurp  his  place  and  to  talk  to  you  myself ;  but  on 
the  whole,  he  shall  be  punished  for  monopolizing 
you,  and  shall  be  obliged  to  be  the  means  of  his 
own  discomfiture,  as  my  old  black  mammy  used  to 
make  her  little  children  go  and  cut  the  switches 
they  presently  were  to  be  whipped  with.  Pray 
present  us,  Mr.  Senator." 

She  paused  and  looked  down  at  Senator  Cobb 
from  her  greater  height,  and  smiled  brilliantly  while 
waiting  with  her  head  rather  haughtily  poised. 

The  senator  recognized  her  attitude  and  flushed 
as  he  said  :  "  Delighted,  I'm  sure.  Miss  Copeland, 
allow  me  to  present  Miss  Vandevoort." 


ALICE    AND    KATE    VANDEVOORT  43 

Miss  Vandevoort  took  both  of  Alice's  hands  in 
hers,  and  sat  down  beside  her  in  the  senator's  chair. 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Senator  Cobb,"  she  said, 
sweetly.  "  Now  will  you  go  and  talk  to  Mrs. 
Verry  and  let  me  tell  Miss  Copeland  who  I  am  ?" 

She  looked  after  his  retreating  figure,  and  laughed 
mischievously  as  she  saw  Alice's  bewildered  face. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  leaning  towards  her  with  an 
engaging  air,  "  you  should  be  a  little  older  to  under 
stand  just  how  deliciously  malicious  we  two  have 
been  to  each  other." 

"  Malicious  ?"  said  Alice.     "  How?" 

"  Should  you  really  care  to  know?  Wouldn't  it 
be  better  for  you  to  go  on  having  life  present  itself 
pictorially,  or  do  you  care  for  the  seamy  side  of  the 
canvas  ?" 

Miss  Vandevoort  was  watching  her  narrowly.  She 
knew  just  how  much  of  a  risk  was  involved  in  try 
ing  the  intelligence  of  a  Madonna-faced  girl  like 
Alice  Copeland.  Too  often  she  had  drawn  a  blank. 

But  a  flash  of  comprehension  swept  over  Alice's 
countenance  as  she  said,  "  I  want  the  seamy  side." 

"  It  is  not  beautiful,  nor  so  innocent  as  the  pict 
ure  side." 

"But  it  is  more  interesting.  It  is  better  to  know 
it,"  answered  Alice. 

"  More  interesting,  certainly;  and  better  to  know 
it  at  my  age  ;  hardly  at  yours." 


44  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  But  let  me  begin  with  this,  anyway.  Tell  me 
just  how  there  was  anything  malicious  in  what  I 
saw,"  urged  Alice,  not  quite  understanding  how  she 
dared  to  talk  so  freely,  yet  confident  that  her  fret- 
dom  was  welcome  to  Miss  Vandevoort. 
"You  could  not  see  below  the  surface?" 
"  Not  at  all.  I  am  very  stupid,  I  suppose." 
"  No,  not  stupid ,  for  this  was  very  subtle  and 
very  trivial — not  worth  a  sentence  of  this  talk  ;  but 
I'll  tell  you  if  you  care  to  know.  In  the  first  place 
Senator  Cobb  had  monopolized  you  to  an  extent 
not  permissible  in  polite  society,  and,  in  spite  of 
coming  from  a  small  town  in  Ohio,  he  was  conscious 
that  he  had  brazened  out  the  well-bred  efforts  of 
three  or  four  people  who  saw  your  flag  of  distress 
and  tried  to  dislodge  him.  Then  when  I  came  and 
insisted,  as  only  a  woman  can,  and  he  saw  defeat 
staring  him  in  the  face,  he  introduced  me  to  you, 
instead  of  you  to  me — which,  as  I  said  before,  is  a 
mere  bagatelle — but  I  spiked  his  guns  again  by  say 
ing  that  if  he  would  leave  us  I  would  tell  you  who 
I  was.  Then  to  add  insult  to  injury,  I  sent  him  to 
Mrs.  Verry,  who  paid  him  such  marked  attention 
all  last  winter  that  people  in  Washington  were 
driven  to  wondering  if  her  intentions  were  honor 
able." 

"  Driven  to  wondering  what  ?" 

"  Oh,  driven  to  wondering  if  anything  would  come 


ALICE   AND    KATE    VANDEVOORT  45 

of  it.  You  see  she  is  quite  prononcee,  and  the 
affections  of  such  a  woman  as  that  are  not  to  be 
trifled  with  with  impunity." 

Alice  relaxed  and  laughed.  There  was  something 
very  alluring  about  Miss  Vandevoort's  daring  words, 
contrasted  with  her  voice  and  manner.  She  seemed 
to  be  amused  at  everything.  She  reviewed  every 
body  in  the  room  for  Alice's  benefit,  telling  her  who 
and  what  they  were.  Suddenly  she  turned  to  the 
girl,  whose  reserve  seemed  completely  to  have  van 
ished  under  her  raillery,  and  said,  "  Frank  Over- 
shine  would  have  bored  me  to  death  talking  of  you 
if  what  he  said  had  not  interested  me." 

"Frank  Overshine?"  said  Alice,  coloring  and 
drawing  off. 

"  Yes.  You  see  I  know  more  about  you  than 
you  do  about  me.  I  have  been  in  Stockbridge  for 
three  days.  I  went  clown  on  a  queer  errand.  I 
captured  my  brother  John's  children  and  took  them 
down  to  Cousin  Mollie  Overshine's.  You  know  Em 
ily  is  getting  a  divorce  from  John,  for  which  Heav 
en  be  praised.  She  had  the  children.  John  want 
ed  them.  Couldn't  get  them.  Lawyers  couldn't 
get  them.  Court  couldn't  get  them.  Emily  is 
sharper  than  a  dozen  of  John's  lawyers.  I  said 
nothing,  but  I  watched  my  chance,  and  when  Emily 
went  out  one  day  I  picked  up  the  little  tots  and 
whisked  them  down  to  Stockbridge  before  anybody 


46  THE   UNDER    SIDE   OF    THINGS 

could  wink.  There  was  nobody  else  to  do  it,  so  I 
did  it.  I  always  have  to  do  things  that  nobody  else 
will  do.  The  children  were  delighted  to  go  with  me. 
I  could  have  taken  them  to  Africa  —  they  would 
have  gone.  I  had  to  send  to  your  house  to  get 
Cousin  Mollie  the  evening  I  arrived,  do  you  re 
member?" 

"  I  remember  the  evening  Mrs.  Overshine  was  at 
our  house  and  was  sent  for,  but  I  was  not  there." 

"  True.  I  remember  now  Frank  told  me  that  he 
had  you  that  evening." 

"  But  another  girl  was  with  us,"  said  Alice,  eager 
ly,  trying  to  disclaim  young  Overshine's  owner 
ship. 

"  So  Frank  said,"  answered  Miss  Vandevoort  in 
a  tone  so  droll  that  Alice  was  obliged  to  smile 
rather  against  her  will.  She  disliked  to  make  a 
jest  of  anything  so  serious  as  a  love  affair.  She 
was  very  young. 

"  Poor  Frank,"  sighed  Miss  Vandevoort  in  mock 
sympathy.  "  He  is  in  a  very  bad  way.  His  symp 
toms  are  quite  aggravated.  But  it  is  a  first  attack." 

Alice  was  silent  with  embarrassment  and  dis 
pleasure.  She  wondered  how  so  radiant  a  creature 
as  Miss  Vandevoort  could  —  could  talk  in  this 
flippant  way.  It  seemed  to  her  Stockbridge  sen 
sibility  almost  indelicate. 

"  He  is  so  hopeless  about  you  too.    How  can  you 


ALICE   AND    KATE   VANDEVOORT  47 

bring  yourself  to  flirt  with  him  if  you  mean  to  take 
him  in  the  end  ?" 

"Take  him  ?"  cried  Alice,  hotly.  "  I  never  thought 
of  such  a  thing  !" 

"  Ah,  that  was  what  I  wanted  to  know,"  answered 
Miss  Vanclevoort,  calmly.  "  I  wondered  if  it  were  a 
preferred  suitor  which  made  you  treat  poor  Senator 
Cobb  so  cavalierly." 

Alice  was  almost  ready  to  cry  with  vexation.  She 
felt  as  powerless  to  help  herself  with  Miss  Vande- 
voort  as  she  had  with  the  senator. 

"  You  are  flying  another  signal  of  distress,"  said 
Miss  Vandevoort.  "  If  the  senator  sees  it  he  will 
come  and  dislodge  me." 

Alice's  hands  flew  to  her  scarlet  cheeks  in  sud 
den  fear,  and  she  stole  a  look  around  the  room  as 
if  to  locate  the  senator  and  the  nearest  door. 

"  Look  here,  my  dear,"  said  Miss  Vandevoort, 
sitting  up  very  straight  and  closing  her  fan.  "  Don't 
look  so  wretched.  Don't  allow  situations  to  over 
power  you  so.  You  are  here,  and  unless  you  rise  to 
the  occasion  you  are  going  to  miss  all  the  pleasure 
your  father  has  tried  to  give  you,  and  you  are  going 
to  allow  these  other  girls  to  wrest  the  victory  from 
you  which  you  may  have  if  you  will.  Now  I  have 
only  been  jesting  with  you,  to  try  your  mettle  and 
to  get  my  own  bearings.  Pull  yourself  together  and 
get  command  of  the  situation,  and  I  will  give  you 


48  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

the  best  time  you  ever  had  in  your  life.  You  will 
have  so  many  beaux  that  you  won't  be  able  to 
manage  them." 

"I  don't  want  them,"  said  Alice,  quickly.  "I 
shouldn't  know  what  to  do  with  them.  It  would 
make  me  most  unhappy." 

"  Is  it  so  ?"  said  Miss  Vandevoort,  slowly.  "  Well, 
I  never  thought  of  that  possibility.  I  wonder  what 
would  have  become  of  me  if  I  had  been  brought 
up  in  Stockbridge." 

"  I  do  not  like  young  men,''  said  Alice.  "  They 
are  so — so  foolish.  I  would  much  rather  talk  to 
you  occasionally,  and  let  the  other  girls  triumph 
over  me  if  they  want  such  a  small  victory  as  that 
would  be." 

Miss  Vandevoort  sat  looking  at  her  fan,  and  only 
nodded  her  head  slowly  in  reply.  Alice  went  on. 

"  Let  Mrs.  Verry  have  Senator  Cobb,  and  let  the 
other  girls  have  the  cadets — they  all  look  bewil- 
deringly  alike  to  me — and  whenever  you  want  me 
to  enjoy  myself  you  come  and  talk  to  me.  It  is  a 
good  deal  to  ask,  but  you  are  so  kind  as  to  say 
that  you  want  me  to  have  a  good  time,  and  that  is 
what  I  should  like  best." 

Miss  Vandevoort  looked  at  Alice  Copeland  with 
interest.  Yes,  without  doubt,  she  was  the  prettiest 
girl  in  the  room,  and  she  had  about  her  a  little 
well-bred  air,  which  just  missed  being  Quakerish 


ALICE    AND    KATE    VANDEVOORT  49 

by  the  spirited  lift  of  her  head,  and  just  missed  be 
ing  vivacious  by  the  subduing  effects  of  Presbyte- 
rianism  and  Stockbridge,  Pennsylvania.  People 
often  said  of  this  quite  satisfactory  combination, 
"  What  a  little  lady  Alice  Copeland  is." 

"  But  you  must  dance  to  -  morrow  night  at  the 
hop,"  said  Miss  Vandevoort. 

"What  hop?" 

"What  hop?  Oh, shades  of  my  Puritan  ancestors! 
What  a  bit  of  rural  verdure  it  is !  Why,  the  graduates' 
hop — the  hop  of  the  year — the  hop  all  these  Balti 
more  and  Washington  and  New  York  girls  have  come 
up  for — and  the  hop  they  all  think  you  came  for." 

"  Well,  if  I  go  I  suppose  that  George  will  dance 
with  me  once  or  twice,  and  my  father  will  take  me 
in  to  supper,  so  that  is  all  that  is  necessary — it  is 
all  I  care  for,"  said  Alice. 

"  But  your  first  hop  at  West  Point  ?  Why,  child, 
some  girls  would  give  their  two  eyes  and  their  two 
ears  to  be  in  your  shoes." 

"Would  they?  And  do  you  care  so  much  for 
such  things  ?  Why  do  you  come  ?" 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I — I  come  because — I  come  because — 
because  I  like  the  army.  I  like  to  see  the  young 
fellows,"  said  Miss  Vandevoort,  coloring  and  mov 
ing  her  head  restlessly. 

"  Then  you  must  know  nearly  everybody  here," 
said  Alice. 


50  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  I  do.     I  know  them  all,  I  think." 

"Well,  are  they  all  as  much  alike  as  they  look  ?" 

Alice's  confidential  tone  amused  Miss  Vande- 
voort,  and  she  laughed. 

"  No,  indeed.  Some  are  quite  different.  Some 
are  really  charming.  There  is  one  whom  I  am  es 
pecially  fond  of." 

Miss  Vandevoort's  frankness  did  not  shock  Alice 
this  time.  She  looked  more  like  a  goddess  to  the 
girl  than  a  woman,  anyway.  Alice  only  wondered 
who  the  fortunate  young  fellow  could  be,  whom 
Miss  Vandevoort  would  distinguish  by  so  great  a 
compliment  as  to  declare  herself  fond  of  him.  It 
was  not  that  she  seemed  so  much  older  either, 
which  made  her  speech  sound  perfectly  proper. 
It  was  more  that  she  seemed  a  degree  removed 
from  all  the  rest,  and  in  some  way  privileged.  She 
had  the  confidence,  in  her  daring,  of  an  acknowl 
edged  belle,  which  in  itself  is  a  charm  unless  al 
lowed  to  be  stupidly  prominent.  Miss  Vandevoort 
seemed  to  have  the  natural  art  of  only  delicately 
suggesting  this,  by  the  nice  way  in  which  she  ap 
peared  to  impart  it  to  each  one  as  an  appeal  to 
the  subtlety  of  his  intelligence,  which  invited  him 
to  catch  this  clue  that  she  threw  out  and  to  make 
the  most  of  it. 

"  Is  he  here  to-night  ?"  asked  Alice,  with  more 
curiosity  than  she  yet  had  shown  about  anybody. 


ALICE    AND    KATE    VANDEVOORT  51 

Just  then  Miss  Vandevoort  looked  up  and  bowed 
to  him. 

"  No,"  she  said,  frankly  doctoring  the  truth  for 
the  sake  of  the  future.  She  held  Alice's  eyes  with 
hers  while  she  made  an  imperceptible  movement 
of  her  fan,  which  the  young  man  promptly  obeyed. 
As  he  made  his  way  slowly  towards  them  Miss 
Vandevoort  said  to  Alice  : 

"  Now  I  wonder  if  you  will  prove  equal  to  this 
situation.  Senator  Cobb  is  becoming  restless 
under  the  caressing  glances  of  the  brilliant  Verry, 
and  he  contemplates  returning  to  the  charge  here. 
I  have  defended  you  all  I  can,  but  I  will  introduce 
one  of  the  dearest  fellows  on  earth  to  you,  and  if 
you  are  not  clever  enough  to  hold  him  here,  Sen 
ator  Cobb  will  get  you  again,  and  if  you  let  him,  I 
wash  my  hands  of  you.  The  best  way  to  recom 
mend  this  young  man  to  so  difficile  a  person  as 
yourself  is  to  guarantee  that  he  is  different.  He 
graduates  third  from  the  head  of  his  class  and  he 
is  first  captain  of  the  corps  of  cadets.  No  such  colos 
sal  glory  as  the  latter  will  ever  come  to  him  in  after 
years  should  he  even  become  President.  Ah,  here 
you  are  !  Captain  Counselman,  allow  me  to  pre 
sent  you  to  Miss  Copeland,  the  daughter  of  that 
most  charming  man,  Judge  Copeland,  and  the 
sister  of  your  classmate.  Probably  you  will  not 
be  allowed  to  remain  unmolested  long,  as  I  have 


52  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

had  daggers  driven  into  me  by  the  black  eyes  of 
Mr.  Drake  for  the  last  ten  minutes.  He  is  even 
now  glaring  at  me  from  the  doorway,  so  hold  the 
fort  while  you  may,  for  there  is  no  telling  when 
you  may  be  routed  by  the  enemy." 

When  Alice  ventured  to  raise  her  eyes  above 
the  brass  buttons  on  his  coat,  he  was  half  smiling 
at  Miss  Vandevoort  and  half  frowning  at  Drake. 
Then  he  turned  and  looked  down  at  her. 

She  afterwards  wondered  if  it  were  that  he  really 
did  stand  straighter  than  all  the  others,  or  that  he 
was  taller,  or  that  there  was  that  look  from  his  gray 
eyes  under  their  level  brows,  or  what  it  was  that 
made  her  forget  George,  and  her  father,  and  Sen 
ator  Cobb  and  Drake,  and  even  Miss  Vandevoort, 
and  only  remember  that  a  face  had  come  into  her 
life  which  would  remain  with  her,  sleeping  or  wak 
ing,  wherever  she  went,  crowding  everything  in  the 
world  into  a  background  for  just  this  one  face — 
the  face  of  "  the  dearest  fellow  on  earth,"  and  one 
who  was  "different." 


V 
BREAKFAST   AT   COZZENS'S 

MUCH  to  Alice's  bewilderment  the  next  morn 
ing,  as  she  and  her  father  walked  into  breakfast, 
she  saw  people  bowing  to  her  whom  she  had  no 
recollection  of  meeting  and  whose  names  were  a 
sealed  book.  Their  table  was  the  one  farthest 
from  the  door,  and  to  reach  it  they  had  to  run 
the  gantlet  of  the  whole  dining-room. 

Mrs.  Verry,  in  a  brilliant  scarlet  dress,  had  the 
first  table,  which  commanded  a  fine  view  of  the 
door,  and  gave  her  an  excellent  opportunity  to 
waylay  any  whom  she  chose  to  entice.  Beside  her 
plate  lay  a  small  bunch  of  red  carnations.  Every 
thing  about  her  was  so  intense  that  it  almost  made 
you  wink. 

"Who  was  that  impossible  person  who  bowed 
to  us,  daughter?''  asked  her  father. 

"  A  Mrs.  Verry,"  answered  Alice. 

"  An  excellent  name  ;  quite  a  hit  indeed." 

Hardly  were  they  seated  before  they  saw  Miss 


54  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Vandevoort  appear  at  the  door,  and  stop  to  speak 
to  the  head  waiter,  who  pointed  to  three  or  four 
tables  ;  but  Miss  Vandevoort  shook  her  head.  She 
nodded  carelessly  to  Mrs.  Verry,  and  bowed  more 
cordially  to  one  or  two  others,  but  it  was  quite 
evident  that  she  was  searching  for  some  one.  It 
was  also  evident  from  the  way  her  face  lighted  up, 
and  a  smile  of  recognition  flashed  over  it,  that  it 
was  Alice  Copeland  whom  she  was  seeking,  be 
cause  she  motioned  to  the  head  waiter,  who  bent 
himself  double  and  preceded  her,  snapping  his  fin 
gers  at  the  other  waiters,  much  as  a  ring-master 
cracks  his  whip  at  a  horse  which  is  doing  the  best 
it  can  already,  for  no  especial  reason  except  to 
call  attention  to  his  authority. 

Arrived  at  the  Copelands'  table,  she  calmly 
seated  herself  next  Alice  in  the  chair  reserved 
for  Senator  Cobb,  giving  the  waiter  to  understand, 
in  more  ways  than  one,  that  it  would  be  worth 
his  while  to  obey  her  and  to  hold  his  tongue. 

"If  I  were  an  artist  I  should  paint  you  as  Au 
rora,  mademoiselle,"  said  Judge  Copeland.  "  Isn't 
she  the  radiant  morning  personified,  daughter?" 

"  Oh,  fie,  Judge !  You  mustn't  turn  my  head 
with  your  flattery." 

"  If  I  can  only  succeed  in  turning  it  in  my  direc 
tion,  you  place  a  premium  on  what  you  term  flat 
tery,"  answered  the  judge,  gallantly. 


BREAKFAST   AT    COZZENS  S  55 

Miss  Vandevoort  clapped  her  hands  softly. 

"How  lovely!"  she  cried.  "Judge  Copeland, 
you  put  some  of  these  unattached  men  to  shame 
with  the  grace  of  your  pretty  speeches.  Alice  will 
have  to  go  home  and  tell  her  mother  that  she  saw 
Kate  Vandevoort  fall  an  easy  victim  to  your  blan 
dishments." 

Alice  looked  from  one  to  the  other.  Such 
meaningless  words,  yet  how  different  they  seemed 
from  other  breakfast-table  talk  she  could  think 
of,  and  how  excellently  they  raised  everybody's 
spirits  ! 

"  How  is  your  mother  feeling  on  this  fine  day?" 

Kate's  brilliant  face  clouded  over. 

"  Poor  little  Mamma  !  She  is  not  well  this  morn 
ing,  and  I  made  her  promise  to  lie  still,  and  let  me 
serve  her  breakfast  later.  She  never  eats  the  Amer 
ican  breakfast,  you  know.  And  I  like  to  carry  her 
rolls  and  coffee  to  her  myself.  When  she  is  ill,  I 
am  conceited  enough  to  think  that  she  likes  it  bet 
ter  if  she  takes  it  from  me.  There  are  only  two  of 
us  left,  you  know,  Judge,  with  John  married,  and 
the  girls  in  Europe,  and  we  have  a  little  way  of 
flattering  each  other  by  a  great  deal  of  petting, 
which,  if  we  were  all  at  home,  would  have  to  be 
scattered  over  the  whole  family.  As  it  is,  we  con 
centrate  it  all  on  two.  It  is  a  sort  of  Liebig's  Extract 
of  Affection  that  we  live  on." 


56  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Waves  of  color  came  into  her  face  as  she  talked 
of  her  mother,  and  softened  it  and  made  it  even 
more  lovely. 

Alice  was  enchanted.  She  had  been  dazzled  by 
Miss  Vandevoort's  brilliancy,  but  that  one  speech 
made  it  seem  possible  for  her  adoration  to  change 
into  personal  love,  a  much  friendlier  and  more  com 
fortable  affair,  as  everybody  knows  who  has  tried 
both. 

"  Dear  me,  Alice,  quickly  !  Watch  the  flamingo!" 
"  Flamingo  !"  said  Alice.  "  Where  is  it  ?'' 
"I  mean  Mrs.  Verry,  my  dear.  There  comes 
Senator  Cobb,  and  he  wants  to  come  to  this  table, 
but  she  wants  him  there  ;  that's  why  she  took  that 
table.  I  wonder  if  she  will  get  him.  Yes,  she's 
landed  him  this  time.  No,  he  only  stopped  to 
speak.  See  how  annoyed  she  looks.  Oh,  fie,  Mrs. 
Verry,  your  natural  color,  when  you  are  angry,  does 
not  harmonize  with  that  you  have  put  on  out  of  your 
little  box.  Don't  watch  her  so,  my  dear.  It  flat 
ters  her.  Look  into  your  plate  and  watch  her 
through  your  eyelashes.  Dear,  dear,  isn't  she  fu 
rious,  and  doesn't  she  hate  us!  Ah,  good-morn 
ing,  my  dear  Senator.  Are  you  coming  to  our  ta 
ble  ?  How  very  nice  !  See,  you  shall  have  this 
seat  next  to  me,  and  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of 
handing  you  the  fruit  myself.  How  well  you  look 
this  mornin£.  Late  hours  do  not  seem  to  affect 


BREAKFAST    AT    COZZENS S  57 

you  in  the  least.  Your  freshness  quite  puts  the 
rest  of  us  to  the  blush." 

The  senator  looked  a  little  bewildered,  but  hap 
py.  He  was  at  the  age  when,  while  he  might  have 
his  preferences,  flattery  from  any  young  woman 
upset  him  completely. 

Miss  Vandevoort's  attentions  to  him  during 
breakfast  were  really  beautiful.  She  quite  mo 
nopolized  him,  and  pouted  so  frankly  when  he 
tried  to  talk  across  her  to  Alice  that  he  was  re 
duced  to  a  powder  of  delight. 

"  Who  is  that  beautiful  woman  ?"  asked  Judge 
Copeland,  as  Miss  Vandevoort  bowed  and  kissed 
her  fingers  to  a  lady  seating  herself  at  the  next  ta 
ble  and  facing  them.  She  had  snow-white  hair, 
blue  eyes,  and  the  fresh,  pink  complexion  of  Alice 
herself. 

"That  is  Mrs.  Counselman,"  answered  Kate, 
still  smiling  at  her. 

Alice's  heart  leaped,  and  she  listened  breath 
lessly  for  the  next  words. 

"And  that  is  her  husband  with  her.  Are  they 
not  a  distinguished  pair?  Their  son  graduates  this 
year,  and  a  finer  fellow  never  breathed.  Mark  my 
words,  young  Counselman  will  be  heard  from.  I 
don't  know  why  I  say  this,  but  I  feel,  whenever  I  am 
near  him,  that  I  am  with  the  heart  of  a  hero.  His 
face  follows  me  like  the  faces  of  some  pictures  in 


58  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

the  Luxembourg.  There  is  a  haunting  quality  in  it, 
which  gives  me  a  feeling  that  Destiny  has  already 
laid  her  hand  upon  his  brow.  It  is  foolish  to  allow 
one's  thoughts  to  wander  in  that  way,  but  I  am  glad 
the  war  is  over.  If  it  were  not,  he  would  lay  down 
his  life  for  some  one,  and  perhaps  nobody  would 
ever  hear  of  it.  He  might  be  shot  carrying  some 
wounded  comrade  from  the  field  when  the  battle 
was  all  over.  The  heroism  would  be  his,  but  not 
the  glory." 

Alice  bit  her  lip  and  clenched  her  hands  in  her 
lap.  She  was  afraid  that  she  was  going  to  cry  be 
fore  them  all.  What  could  Miss  Vandevoort  mean  ? 

"  His  father  is  a  most  charming  man.  He  got 
that  sabre-cut  at  Gettysburg.  He  is  a  man  of 
scholarly  tastes  and  writes  exquisite  verse.  To  go 
into  his  library  is  to  go  into  his  life.  But  the  Coun- 
selmans  are  a  race  of  soldiers.  His  great-grand 
father  fought  in  the  Revolution,  and  was  killed  at 
the  battle  of  Brandywine.  I  shall  say  nothing  of 
Mrs.  Counselman.  Her  lovely  face  is  her  introduc 
tion  to  a  man  like  yourself,  Judge." 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear.  Will  you  do  me  the  honor 
to  present  me  to  them  after  breakfast  ?" 

"  With  much  pleasure.  Oh,  what  exquisite  roses  ! 
Look,  Alice." 

Senator  Cobb  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a 
satisfied  smile  upon  his  face,  as  everybody  turned 


BREAKFAST    AT    COZZENS'S  59 

to  watch  the  head  waiter  coming  down  the  room 
bearing  a  glorious  bouquet  of  roses,  which  almost 
concealed  him  from  view. 

"  They  are  for  Miss  Copeland,"  said  the  senator, 
rubbing  his  hands  together. 

Alice  half  rose  from  her  chair  in  childish  but  in 
dignant  protest. 

"  Sit  down,"  whispered  Miss  Vandevoort,  twitch 
ing  her  dress  under  the  table.  But  Kate  frowned 
a  trifle  as  she  realized  that  there  sat  Mrs.  Counsel- 
man,  the  mother  of  Gordon  Counselman,who  would 
see  Alice  receive  so  marked  an  attention  from  an 
other.  Kate's  prehensile  brain  realized  the  subtle 
ty  of  the  situation.  She  knew  that  there  was  noth 
ing  like  nipping  these  things  in  the  bud. 

"  Oh,  Senator  Cobb !"  she  said,  raising  her  voice  a 
trifle.  She  reached  out  for  the  roses  and  they  were 
placed  in  her  hands.  "  Do  let  me  give  them  to  her," 
she  murmured  in  the  senator's  ear. 

"  Certainly,"  he  said,  pleased  at  the  sensation  he 
had  created,  and  delighted  to  see  everybody  cran 
ing  their  necks  to  watch  Miss  Vandevoort,  with 
her  face  buried  in  the  flowers,  smiling  and  nodding 
at  Senator  Cobb,  and  apparently  thanking  him. 

"  Aren't  they  beautiful,  Alice  ?  And  isn't  the 
senator  too  kind  and  thoughtful  for  any  use  ?  But 
I  feel  dreadfully  left  out  in  the  cold."  She  pre 
tended  to  shiver,  and  looked  reproachfully  at  the 


60  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

senator,  who  was  so  delighted  at  her  raillery  that 
he  couldn't  wash  his  hands  fast  enough.  He  stopped 
gurgling  long  enough  to  say, 

"But,  my  dear  young  lady,  just  wait  until  din 
ner,  and  see  what  you  will  receive.  You  never 
know  what  a  day  may  bring  forth." 

"  With  you  around,  that  is  quite  true.  You  are 
like  a  fairy  godfather,  ahvays  dropping  sugar-plums 
to  your  friends.  But  mind  it  is  larger  than  this," 
she  whispered,  "  or  I  shall  be  dreadfully  jealous." 

He  nodded  and  chuckled  and  churned  himself 
almost  into  hysteria  with  the  intoxication  of  Miss 
Vandevoort's  manner.  It  takes  moral  courage  in 
a  man  to  be  true  to  one  woman,  if  another  woman 
has  pitted  her  charms  against  him. 

"  These  are  yours,  Alice  dear.  What  shall  I  do 
with  them  ?"  said  Miss  Vandevoort,  holding  them 
towards  her,  but  not  offering  to  relinquish  them. 
Alice  drew  back  as  if  their  odor  sickened  her. 

"  Oh,  don't."  she  implored.  "  Keep  them.  Throw 
them  away.  Or  no,  wait  a  moment.  Senator  Cobb, 
are  these  flowers  mine  to  do  as  I  please  with?" 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  young  lady.  Certainly. 
Throw  them  away  —  throw  them  into  the  Hud- 
.son  River,  if  you  wish  !"  He  chuckled  again  at  this 
absurdity,  and  Miss  Vandevoort  coughed  gently. 

;'  Then  I  think  I  will  send  a  few  of  them  to  your 
mother,  Miss  Vandevoort,  if  you  think  she  would 


BREAKFAST   AT   COZZENS's  6 1 

care  for  them.  Mrs.  Vandevoort  is  ill  this  morn 
ing,  Senator  Cobb." 

Tears  came  into  the  senator's  eyes  at  this  exhi 
bition  of  his  lady-love's  exquisite  thoughtfulness. 
How  little  some  men  know  the  signs  !  If  some  one 
else  had  sent  those  roses,  Mrs.  Vandevoort  might 
have  had  flowers  sent  to  her,  but  they  would  not 
have  been  these. 

In  some  way  Kate  Vandevoort  walked  out  of  the 
dining-room,  at  Senator  Cobb's  side,  carrying  Alice 
Copeland's  flowers  in  her  arms.  And  when  pres 
ently  she  gave  up  guard -mounting,  against  the 
clamoring  of  a  dozen  importunate  friends,  in  order 
to  be  with  her  mother  at  breakfast,  she  still  had 
those  flowers,  all  of  which  Alice  had  thrust  upon 
her  in  a  frenzy  of  gratitude. 


VI 
GUARD-MOUNTING 

MANY  people,  of  wide  experience  in  other  matters, 
absolutely  deny  the  existence  of  love  at  first  sight. 
They  lay  great  stress  upon  the  impossibility  of  such 
an  occurrence,  and  point  with  pride  to  the  fact  that 
they  are  bank  presidents,  or  treasurers  of  orphan  asy 
lums,  or  aldermen,  to  give  weight  to  their  opinions. 

These  facts  silence,  but  do  not  convince.  Men 
have  been  known  to  deny  the  possibility  of  a  new 
world,  and  even  while  they  were  denying  it  most 
stridently  some  one  who  believed  sailed  away  and 
found  it,  thus  proving  it  beyond  a  peradventure. 
Just  as,  in  the  midst  of  these  discussions,  men 
and  women  are  sailing  away  and  discovering  new 
worlds  in  each  other's  eyes,  leaving  those  of  us 
who  are  slow  of  heart  to  shut  out  the  sight,  if  we 
are  provincial,  and  loudly  to  declare  that  we  do 
not  believe  in  this  new  world  because  we  have  not 
sailed,  and  because  we  have  not  found  it. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Gordon  Counselman,  on  that 


GUARD-MOUNTING  63 

eventful  night  when  he  looked  down  into  Alice 
Copeland's  blue  eyes,  felt  his  heart  give  an  unmis 
takable  leap  under  his  tight  gray  coat,  and  some 
thing  in  his  throat  rose  up  and  choked  him  and  he 
could  not  speak  for  a  moment,  but  stood  looking 
down  at  her,  alone  with  her  for  aught  he  saw  or 
heard  of  others,  and  feeling  that  a  girl  who  could 
look  up  at  a  fellow  like  that  was  enough  to  turn 
West  Point  back  to  the  starting-place  for  all  the 
world — the  Garden  of  Eden — so  called,  perhaps,  be 
cause  two  lovers  were  there  alone  with  nobody  to 
bother  them  or  ask  them  to  make  up  a  set. 

Young  Counselman  was  no  philosopher.  He  was 
simply  a  clean-minded  fellow  who  fell  in  love  as 
naturally  and  as  gladly  as  only  a  chivalrous  nature 
can,  and  who  experienced  as  many  pangs  of  un- 
happiness  and  doubt  as  always  assail  one  in  a  first 
passion,  but  never  with  quite  the  same  vernal  poig 
nancy  as  when  it  happens  to  come  in  one's  youth, 
before  one  has  had  much  time  to  note  or  discuss 
the  symptoms  in  others.  And  not  being  a  philos 
opher,  he  lived  through  these  glories,  frankly  and 
unsuspiciously  doing  and  saying  the  same  things 
which  millions  of  human  beings  had  done  before 
him,  ingenuously  believing  that  he  was  the  first  to 
discover  just  this  delirious  quality  in  the  joy  of 
love,  betraying  himself  in  a  hundred  little  ways  to 
any  observant  eyes,  but  utterly  untormented  by  pa- 


64  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

gan  doubts  as  to  the  genuineness  or  duration  of 
this  delightful  state,  such  as  occasionally  will  in 
trude  themselves  upon  more  experienced  minds. 

To  those  who  are  addicted  to  the  unfortunate 
habit  of  analyzing,  perhaps  it  is  as  sincere  a  test  as 
any  of  the  reality  of  a  passion  that  one  does  believe 
one's  self  to  be  a  pioneer  in  this  line.  And  the  fatu 
ous  questions  lovers  ask  each  other — whether  any 
two  people  were  ever  so  happy  before,  or  if  anybody 
ever  loved  with  just  the  same  largesse,  or  thought 
the  same  things,  or  felt  such  generous  spasms  of  self- 
denial  raging  to  be  tested — prove  even  to  the  an 
alytical  that  they  are  sailing  over  hitherto  unknown 
waters  towards  the  new  world,  which  may  not  be 
just  as  their  fancy  painted  it,  but  which  is  unmis 
takably  strange  and  different,  and  at  least  brings 
the  joy,  at  which  even  philosophers  dare  not  cavil, 
of  being  the  waking  reality  of  all  their  inarticulate 
and  half-formed  dreams. 

Of  course  Gordon  Counselman  did  not  discover 
all  his  capabilities  in  this  direction  during  that  first 
sleepless  night  when  he  thrashed  around,  wakeful, 
and  confidently  happy,  ready  to  declare  in  the  morn 
ing  that  he  had  not  slept  a  wink,  yet  bearing  in  his 
radiant  face  the  manifest  signs  of  having  been  re 
freshed  by  what  few  lapses  into  unconsciousness  he 
had  been  unable  to  take  account  of. 

Twelve  hours  of  being  violently  in  love  will  teach 


GUARD-MOUNTING  65 

a  man  more  of  the  subject  than  all  the  novels  he 
ever  read.  And  from  being  as  heart-whole  the  even 
ing  before  as  ever  a  youth  was,  barring  a  few  pangs 
laid  to  the  account  of  Miss  Kate  Vandevoort,  who 
had  constantly  to  switch  the  attentions  of  the  cadets 
from  herself  to  younger  girls,  Gordon  Counselman 
emerged  from  his  quarters  the  next  morning  honest 
ly  feeling  a  year  older  and  confident  that  he  had  run 
the  whole  gamut  of  human  emotion  from  the  lowest 
depth  of  bass  despair  to  the  highest  treble  of  hope 
and  faith.  Cold  gray  daylight  found  him  at  neither 
extreme,  but  somewhere  in  the  middle,  with  some  un 
easiness,  some  hope,  and  a  great  deal  of  determina 
tion.  It  is  queer  what  a  curious  effect  daylight  has 
on  love,  and  odd  how  many  of  the  kinks  the  moon 
puts  in  that  the  sun  takes  out. 

He  was  in  such  exuberant  spirits,  however,  just 
to  realize  that  she  was  here  at  West  Point,  breath 
ing  the  same  air,  looking  at  the  same  river,  treading 
the  same  ground,  and  that  in  an  hour,  perhaps  half 
an  hour,  at  almost  any  moment  he  might  see  her, 
that  when  he  met  Pratt,  even  though  he  knew  Pratt 
wanted  to  borrow  money,  he  hailed  him  with  an  en 
thusiasm  of  which  Pratt  was  not  slow  to  avail  him 
self. 

Gordon  even  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  into 
talk  about  it,  although  he  had  not  a  cent  to  lend, 
and  really,  except  that  his  credit  was  good,  was  one 

5 


66  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

of  the  most  useless  persons  for  Pratt  to  attempt. 
Gordon's  kind  heart,  however,  smote  him  for  with 
holding  his  sympathy  from  so  harassed  a  fellow  as 
Pratt  looked,  and  he  thought  perhaps  if  it  were 
only  a  trifling  scrape  that  he  might  see  some  way 
out  of  it. 

Pratt  realized  the  value  of  having  at  last  got  Coun- 
selman's  ear,  into  which,  to  his  honor  be  it  said,  no 
woes  were  ever  poured  in  vain. 

It  was  but  a  small  thing  in  itself,  only  a  question 
of  a  few  hundred  dollars  ;  but  to  a  cadet  with  no 
income  of  his  own  it  was  like  the  national  debt 
would  seem  to  a  private  citizen. 

"  But  Pratt,  old  fellow,  tell  me  how  it  came  to  be 
so  much  ?"  said  Gordon,  anxiously. 

Pratt  wriggled  and  colored,  but  finally,  after  one 
long  look  into  Gordon's  eyes,  which  had  a  trust 
worthiness  in  them  which  no  one  could  mistake, 
thrust  his  hands  between  his  knees  and  said  with 
dogged  determination  : 

"  I'll  tell  you  the  whole  thing,  Counselman.  I 
wasn't  going  to,  but  you've  had  the  decency  not  to 
kick  a  fellow  when  he  is  down,  and  Til  just  tell  you. 
I  got  into  debt  over  a  woman — flowers  and  candy  and 
truck.  I'm  in  love  with  her.  You  needn't  grin. 
You  don't  know  what  it  is.  But  just  you  wait  till 
some  girl  gets  you  in  her  clutches,  and  you'll  be 
ready  to  sell  your  chevrons  to  get  her  a  piece  of  the 


GUARD-MOUNTING  67 

moon  if  she  wants  it.  Mine  is  that  kind.  Other 
fellows  give  her  the  most  expensive  things  and  I've 
had  to,  or  be  left  out  of  the  race.  I  couldn't  stand 
that,  so  I  kept  on  till  my  credit  was  gone,  and  the 
governor  shut  down  on  me  besides.  Then  I  was 
in  a  hole.  I've  only  been  able  to  borrow  small 
amounts  of  the  other  fellows,  because  I  couldn't  tell 
them  this  that  I'm  telling  you,  and  when  I  paid  some, 
of  course  they  let  me  run  those  cursed  bills  a  little 
higher.  But  long  ago  they  stopped  that  and  began 
hounding  me  besides.  Now  they  are  threatening 
to  send  them  to  the  commandant.  If  they  do,  you 
know  it's  all  up  with  me,  and,  by  Jove  !  it  will  be  the 
end  of  me  too.  I  promise  you  that." 

"  What !  Do  you  mean  that  you'd  be  such  a  cow 
ard  as  to  wear  a  wooden  overcoat  if  you  don't  grad 
uate  ?" 

"  It  isn't  that!"  cried  Pratt,  raising  his  head  from 
his  hands.  "  I'd  lose  the  girl!" 

"  Oh,"  said  Gordon.  Then,  "/  haven't  got  any 
money." 

"  No,"  said  Pratt,  eagerly,  "  but  you've  got  credit, 
and  I  have  made  all  the  arrangements.  If  you  will 
just  indorse  my  note  they  will  take  it,  and  I  can 
take  care  of  the  interest." 

"  Why  will  they  take  my  name  instead  of  trusting 
you?" 

"Why,  you  have  kept  your  credit  good  and  mine 


68  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

is  all  knocked  into  smithereens.  Anyhow,  I  asked 
them,  and  they  said  your  name  would  be  all  right 
if  you'd  give  it  to  me." 

"Well,  I'll  do  that,  certainly,  and  be  glad  to.  Of 
course  it's  only  a  guarantee  that  you  will  do  your 
part,  and  I  am  not  afraid  that  you  won't." 

"  Counselman,  you — you're  the  best  fellow  that  I 
know,  by  Jove!  And  I'll  never  forget  this  as  long 
as  I  live.  You  don't  know  what  a  load  you  have 
taken  off  my  mind.  I  declare  I  could  hardly  breathe 
before.  Now  I  can  begin  to  enjoy  her  being  here." 

He  wrung  Gordon's  hand  twice. 

"  I'm  going  to  marry  her,  Counselman,  and  I'd 
like  you  for  best  man.  Will  you?" 

"  Why,  has  it  gone  as  far  as  that?"  laughed  Gordon. 

"We  are  not  engaged  yet,"  admitted  Pratt.  "  But 
she  has  given  me  to  understand  that  she  will  marry 
me  as  soon  as  I  graduate." 

"I  hope  she  won't  miss  the  flowers." 

"Oh,  I  can't  stop  sending  them  now!  I've  got 
to  keep  it  up  a  little  longer." 

"  Why,  old  man,  are  you  in  earnest  ?  If  you  are 
thinking  of  marrying  her,  surely  you  are  not  going 
to  add  to  your  debts  for  your  dowry." 

"  I've  got  to,  if  I  keep  in  with  her." 

"  Nonsense,  old  fellow.  Just  tell  her  you  can't 
afford  it.  She  will  respect  you  for  it,  if  she  really 
cares  for  you." 


GUARD-MOUNTING  69 

"  Well,  you  might  be  able  to  tell  your  girl  if  you 
had  one,  and  it  would  go,  but  it's  different  with  me, 
and  different  with  Mrs.  Verry." 

"Mrs.  Verry!"  exclaimed  Gordon. 

"  Certainly.  What's  the  matter  ?  Didn't  you 
know  who  it  was  ?  I  suppose  you  think  it  is  queer 
that  such  a  brilliant  woman  would  condescend  to 
marry  a  fellow  like  me.  But  she  says  she  loves  me, 
Counselman." 

"  Mrs.  Verry !"  repeated  Gordon,  as  if  unable  to 
get  it  through  his  head.  He  wanted  to  say  a  dozen 
things,  but  it  is  rather  difficult  to  look  a  fellow  in 
the  face  and  say  that  the  woman  he  loves  is  years 
older  than  himself  and  that  he  believes  her  to  be 
the  worst  kind  of  a  flirt  besides. 

"It  is  not  to  be  mentioned  at  present,  Counsel 
man.  I  have  only  told  you." 

"  All  right,  old  fellow.  I — I'm  really  too  sur 
prised  to  say  anything." 

"  I  don't  wonder,"  said  Pratt,  with  unwonted  hu 
mility. 

When  he  was  alone  Gordon  drew  a  long  breath 
and  shook  his  head.  Then  he  put  the  matter  out 
of  his  mind  and  went  to  hunt  up  George  Copeland. 
He  and  George  had  been  great  friends,  much  to 
every  one's  surprise,  but  Gordon  wanted  to  view  him 
now  in  the  new  light  of  being  Alice  Copeland's 
brother.  He  sighed  to  think  that  if  he  had  only 


70  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

known  Alice  sooner,  what  hours  he  could  have  spent 
asking  George  questions  about  her.  He  forgot  that 
George  probably  would  not  have  answered  them. 
Brothers  seldom  are  willing  to  sacrifice  themselves 
to  that  extent,  and  George  Copeland  was  unusually 
taciturn.  Indeed,  it  was  one  of  the  problems  of 
West  Point  why  the  most  popular  cadet  there  should 
have  selected  so  cross-grained  and  quick-tempered 
a  man  for  his  best  friend  as  George  Copeland. 

They  really  had  not  selected  each  other.  It  was 
one  of  those  inevitable  friendships  among  men 
which  women  never  can  understand. 

Counselman  was  known  to  be  set  against  fight 
ing,  and  was  a  much  respected  arbitrator  in  many 
a  subaltern  disagreement.  Added  to  this  was  the 
kindest  heart  in  the  world,  which  sometimes  got  him 
into  trouble.  He  knew  that  his  classmate  Copeland's 
greatest  fault,  and  an  unforgivable  fault  at  West 
Point,  lay  in  attempting  to  take  forty  winks  in  the 
morning  after  the  bugle  sounded.  Copeland  had 
been  reprimanded  several  times  for  being  late,  or  for 
having  something  wrong  with  his  attire — for  what 
man  can  dress  properly  on  a  mad  run  ?  Counselman, 
not  knowing  George's  surly  temper,  out  of  pure  hu 
manity  once  thrust  his  head  in  at  the  door  of  Cope- 
land's  quarters  and  roared  out  a  warning,  whereat 
George  is  said  to  have  hurled  a  boot  at  Gordon's 
head.  That  is  where  he  made  a  mistake,  for  in  less 


GUARD-MOUNTING  71 

time  than  one  could  wink,  Gordon  Counselman,  the 
well-known  peacemaker,  had  hauled  George  Cope- 
land  out  of  bed  and  was  thrashing  him  roundly  ;  and 
when  he  had  all  but  knocked  the  breath  out  of 
George's  astonished  body,  he  politely  invited  him 
to  dress  and  take  the  rest  of  what  he  had  in  for  him. 

But  George,  being  wide  awake  by  that  time,  cord 
ially  refused,  and  even  apologized  handsomely — 
partly  for  being  thrashed  and  partly  for  so  unamia- 
bly  rewarding  Gordon's  brotherly  act — after  which, 
of  course,  they  were  the  best  of  friends,  and  Gor 
don's  authority  as  a  peace-maker  became  more  re 
spected  than  ever. 

But  on  this  particular  morning  Gordon  was  not 
thinking  of  this  incident,  nor  of  the  fact  that  George 
only  showed  his  sullen  temper  nowadays  after  re 
ceiving  a  letter  from  his  mother.  If  he  had  thought 
of  them  he  would  have  dismissed  all  such  unpleas 
ant  intruders — for  Gordon's  views  of  life  were  per 
sistently  rose-colored. 

He  could  not  find  George,  however,  who  was  en 
gaged  in  guard-mounting,  but  some  girls  found  him 
and  held  him  a  prisoner  for  an  anxious  half-hour 
which  he  had  meant  to  spend  with  Alice  Copeland. 

It  really  would  be  a  delightful,  as  well  as  a  most 
instructive  thing,  if  a  man  occasionally  could  ex 
change  places  with  the  woman  he  loves  and  view 
his  actions  through  her  eyes.  Perhaps  he  might 


72  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

better  understand  her  causeless  jealousies,  her  un 
reasonable  way  of  holding  him  to  account  for  quite 
harmless  diversions.  He  might  see  how  the  mo 
ments  he  spends  with  other  girls  seem  to  lengthen 
into  the  basis  of  a  quarrel — so  different  are  men's 
eyes  from  women's.  It  would  benefit  them  in  the 
same  degree  that  a  year's  travel  benefits  a  provin 
cial  youth.  He  learns  a  new  point  of  view. 

Most  men  are  provincial  when  they  make  love, 
but  it  is  the  provincialism  of  those  who  give  the 
matter  no  thought,  and  not  of  bigotry. 

When  Miss  Vandevoort  took  her  radiant  face 
and  her  brilliant  flowers  and  her  sweeping  skirts 
from  Alice's  clinging  view,  the  poor  girl  felt  bereft. 
Nevertheless  she  crept  close  to  her  father  and  Mrs. 
Sheldon,  the  commandant's  wife,  and  went  with 
them  to  witness  guard -mounting  with  a  beating 
heart. 

The  martial  spirit  in  her  leaped  out  to  meet  the 
boys  in  gray  as  they  marched  towards  her,  every 
eye  to  the  front,  every  step  taken  with  such  clock- 
like  precision  that  it  made  her  dizzy  to  watch  them. 
In  vain  she  looked  for  Gordon  Counselman.  The 
brown  faces  under  their  shakoes  all  looked  alike  to 
her,  and  she  was  sure  if  he  had  been  among  them 
he  would  have  looked  different.  The  adjutant, 
covered  with  gold  lace,  made  a  brave  showing;  but 
still  he  was  not  the  one  she  sought.  Nevertheless 


GUARD-MOUNTING  73 

there  were  moments  when  the  impressive  spectacle 
before  her  drew  her  thoughts  from  him,  and  left  no 
room  for  anything  except  the  majesty  of  the  mili 
tary  ;  for  when,  at  the  last,  the  old  Officer  of  the 
•Day  turns  the  detail  over  to  the  new  Officer  of  the 
Day,  and,  making  the  salute — the  most  stately,  the 
most  impressive  of  all — by  removing  his  helmet  and 
holding  it  with  matchless  dignity  to  his  left  shoul 
der,  so  stands  with  bared  head  while  he  passes  out 
of  office,  Alice  felt  that  it  was  worth  while  being 
Officer  of  the  Day  just  for  the  majestic  manner  in 
which  he  was  permitted  to  resign  the  office. 

Hardly,  however,  had  the  band  struck  up  "  The 
Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me,"  and  the  detail  marched 
away,  when  she  saw  Gordon  Counselman  in  a  group 
of  girls  who  seemed  to  be  literally  besieging  him. 

It  is  one  of  the  unanswered  conundrums  of  life 
why  the  anger  of  a  lover  rises  to  a  white-heat  at  a 
similar  display  of  his  own  mild  insanity  in  any  one 
else.  Alice  instantly  set  those  girls  down  as  bold 
and  forward  and  unladylike ;  and  many  more  such 
adjectives  did  she  heap  upon  them  in  the  secret  re 
cesses  of  a  heart  which  never  before  had  known  a 
pang  of  jealousy  in  all  its  gentle  existence.  She 
was  partly  consoled,  however,  by  the  unmistak 
able  way  in  which  his  brown  face  flushed  when 
he  saw  her.  She  even  gave  him  credit  for  an 
effort  to  detach  himself  from  the  tenacious  girls 


74  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

who  surrounded  him,  for  she  distinctly  saw  him 
bow  and  endeavor  to  withdraw ;  but  they  made 
such  a  little  laughing  clamor  over  him,  and  coaxed 
him  so  prettily,  and  he  was  so  evidently  their  hero 
as  well  as  hers,  that  a  little  sick  thrill  ran  through 
her,  and  a  film  came  over  the  beauty  of  the  scene, 
and  she  turned  to  look  for  her  father,  and  wanted 
to  go  back  to  Stockbridge  where  she  couldn't  see 
him,  or,  at  least,  where  she  couldn't  see  him  with 
other  girls. 

But  her  father  was  not  there  and  Senator  Cobb 
was.  He  was  making  for  her  too.  But  bearing 
down  upon  him  like  a  revenue  cutter  was  Mrs. 
Verry.  Alice  smiled  a  wintry  little  smile  of  amuse 
ment.  Thanks  to  Miss  Vandevoort's  tutelage  she 
was  beginning  to  see  below  the  surface,  and  it  looked 
to  her  like  a  human  game  of  hare  and  hounds. 

She  never  knew  the  load  of  unhappiness  that  set 
tled  down  upon  Gordon  Counselman  as  he  saw  the 
rich  senator  from  Ohio  so  palpably  appropriating 
Alice,  and  dampening  the  ardor  which  had  been 
surging  up  in  his  heart  at  the  sight  of  her  to  the 
verge  of  bursting  off  some  of  his  shining  buttons,  as 
Peggotty  was  wont  to  shed  hers  under  sudden  effer 
vescence  of  affection. 

So  those  two  foolish  young  people  looked  across 
at  each  other  and  allowed  the  wrong  people  to 
monopolize  them,  and  were  frankly  and  honestly 


GUARD-MOUNTING  75 

miserable  over  the  perversity  of  fate  or  their  own 
stupidity  in  not  rising  to  the  occasion.  When,  final 
ly,  young  Counselman  made  a  dash  for  liberty,  and 
asked  her  to  walk  down  old  Flirtation  with  him  in 
his  only  hour  of  leisure,  Alice  said  to  him  : 

"  I've  promised  to  go  with  Senator  Cobb,"  in 
such  a  woebegone  tone,  and  with  such  a  glance  of 
aversion  at  the  poor  senator,  that  Gordon  was  com 
forted  a  little  in  spite  of  his  bitter  disappointment. 

"  Stay  and  talk  to  me  just  a  moment,"  he  urged, 
frankly  turning  his  back  on  the  senator  and  his 
claims. 

She  colored  so  prettily  with  pleasure  that  Gordon 
was  sure  she  would;  but  just  then  her  father  said  : 

"  Come,  daughter,  Mrs.  Sheldon  wishes  to  go ;" 
and  with  only  one  backward  glance  full  of  acquies 
cence  and  longing  to  accept,  Alice  was  sandwiched 
between  the  unsuspicious  Mrs.  Sheldon  and  her 
father,  and  taken  back  to  the  hotel,  where,  waiting 
for  them,  she  found  Kate  Vandevoort. 

Alice  mentally  flung  herself  upon  Miss  Vande- 
voort's  mercy  and  into  her  arms,  telling  her  secret 
quite  unsuspiciously  with  the  desperate  words  : 

"  I  promised  to  go  to  walk  with  Senator  Cobb, 
and  just  afterwards,  when  it  was  too  late,  Mr. 
Counselman  asked  me." 

Miss  Vandevoort  wrinkled  her  smooth  brow  in 
vexation  for  a  moment,  then  she  threw  back  her 


76  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

head  and  laughed  her  old  laugh  of  amusement  at 
the  ways  of  people. 

"  Why  do  you  laugh  ?''  asked  Alice. 

"Because  if  I  didn't,  I  should  weep.  Laughing 
keeps  me  on  the  surface.  But  don't  look  so  wretch 
ed,  my  dear."  She  took  Alice's  flushed  cheeks 
between  her  thumb  and  forefinger  very  daintily. 
"  Let  me  see  if  we  cannot  think  of  an  antidote." 

"  How  good  you  are,"  murmured  Alice.  "  I 
thought  you  would  be  vexed  at  my  stupidity.  I'm 
such  a  little  fool,"  she  ended,  with  vicious  emphasis. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  beginning  to  realize  it,"  said 
Miss  Vandevoort,  with  amazing  coolness.  "  It  is 
the  first  step  towards  reform.  What  made  you 
promise  to  go  with  Senator  Cobb  ?" 

"  It  came  so  suddenly.    I  had  no  excuse  ready." 

"Why  didn't  you  say  you  had  an  engagement?" 

"  Because  it  wouldn't  have  been  the  truth,"  said 
Alice,  with  the  unconscious  rudeness  of  conscious 
virtue. 

"  del!"  said  Miss  Vandevoort  under  her  breath. 
"  What  a  long  way  Stockbridge  is  from  New  York. 
Millions  and  millions  of  miles.  Don't  look  so 
mystified,  child.  Whenever  you  are  puzzled,  nod 
your  head  with  an  air  of  intelligence  calculated  to 
deceive  even  the  elect.  Then  keep  your  ears  open 
and  the  gullible  elect  will  straightway  tell  you  all 
there  is  to  know  about  it.  When  you  are  unhappy, 


GUARD-MOUNTING  77 

laugh.  Laugh  out  loud,  show  all  your  teeth — you 
have  very  pretty  teeth  and  you  can  afford  to  laugh 
even  at  poor  jests.  When  you  are  with  your  sweet 
heart,  don't  smile  and  look  contented  and  happy. 
If  you  do,  some  jealous  girl  will  get  him  away 
from  you.  Look  droopy  and  bored,  so  that  people 
will  not  envy  you.  You  are  a  shining  mark,  my 
dear,  with  that  face  of  yours  such  a  map  of  your 
emotions.  If  you  can't  do  anything  else,  look  stu 
pid.  I  wonder  if  you  could — with  those  eyes  ?  It 
is  invaluable  to  be  able  to  look  stupid.  It  disarms 
everybody.  I  always  am  so  sorry  for  people  with 
really  intellectual  faces — people  with  long,  scholar 
ly  features,  who  can  only  control  their  expression. 
They  always  are  obliged  to  take  the  credit  for  what 
they  know,  and  they  are  doomed  to  be  feared  by 
the  very  ones  they  care  most  to  attract.  Now  I 
am  different.  Let  me  tell  you  a  secret.  My  face 
is  my  fortune  because  it  does  not  betray  me.  I 
can  look  like  a  perfect  fool,  a  puppet,  the  tool  of 
any  designing  man  or  woman.  Look  at  me  now. 
Do  I  look  as  if  I  could  spell  '  necessary '  and  '  sep 
arate  '  ?  Shouldn't  you  think  that  I  would  spell  '  be 
lieve  '  and  '  receive  '  alike,  and  that  I  should  much 
prefer  to  take  my  views  on  life  from  my  husband  ? 
That  is  why  I  have  such  a  good  time.  I  am  clever 
and  nobody  knows  it.  Promise  not  to  betray  my 
secret." 


78  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Miss  Vandevoort  said  this  with  such  an  engag 
ing  air,  and  with  so  whimsical  an  expression,  that 
Alice  was  ready  tr  declare  that  she  was  the  funni 
est  as  well  as  the  Jnost  fascinating  woman  she  ever 
had  met,  which,  considering  her  narrow  experi 
ence,  was  hardly  as  great  a  compliment  as  she 
meant  it  to  be. 

"  But  to  return  to  Senator  Cobb.  Much  as  I 
should  dislike  to  be  the  first  one  to  set  your  feet  in 
the  downward  path,  I  wish  I  could  teach  you  not 
to  be  quite  so  hopelessly  truthful.  \Vhy,  what's 
the  matter  ?  I  only  mean  that  it  is  not  necessary 
to  tell  all  you  think  in  order  to  believe  yourself 
honest.  Tactlessness  is  not  a  virtue  even  if  the 
ignorant  do  dub  it  honesty.  It  is  a  downright 
crime.  I  wish  I  could  teach  you  to  veil  the  truth 
with  illusion — pure  white  illusion — because  the  na 
ked  truth  is  shocking  to  the  scrupulously  modest. 
Now,  I  am  clever  enough  to  know  that  I  never  can 
teach  you  to  do  this  well,  and  unless  you  can  do  it 
well  it  is  much  better  to  leave  it  alone  and  just  vul 
garly  to  tell  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth,  and  let  people  hate  you,  as  they  sure 
ly  will.  Nobody  wants  undiluted  honesty,  least  of 
all,  men.  But  the  mistake  women  make  is  in  col 
oring  the  truth.  They  make  it  gray,  and  gray  is 
dull  and  unbecoming.  Now  when  /  color  the 
truth  I  make  it  red.  Most  men  love  red.  It  warms 


GUARD-MOUNTING  7Q 

and  cheers,  and  my  little  pink  and  rose  colored  lies 
are  among  my  greatest  charms.  Why,  my  dear 
Alice,  if  I  had  told  the  brutal  truth  to  unattractive 
men  all  my  life,  I  should  be  literally  nowhere.  I 
should  have  been  laid  on  the  shelf  long  ago." 

"  Yes,  but,"  said  Alice,  flushing  and  laughing, 
"  there  was  nothing  to  do  about  Senator  Cobb  ex 
cept  to  say,  '  I  don't  want  to  go  with  you,'  and 
have  it  really  true." 

"Well,  why  didn't  you  say  that?" 
"Because  it  would  have  hurt  his  feelings." 
"  Precisely.  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  do  not 
want  to  hurt  even  Senator  Cobb's  feelings.  From 
the  way  you  started  to  walk  right  across  the  break 
fast-table  this  morning  in  order  to  get  rid  of  him,  I 
was  afraid  you  were  capable  of  anything.  Never  hurt 
any  man's  feelings.  He  never  forgets  it.  You  took 
the  other  horn  of  the  dilemma  and  made  yourself 
wretched.  I  have  always  thought  of  the  Dilemma 
as  a  horned  sphinx.  Now  I  am  too  selfish  to  im 
pale  myself  on  either  horn.  I  avoid  both  and  seat 
myself  calmly  between  them  on  her  brow,  where  I 
remain  like  a  diadem.  All  my  life  I  have  been 
dodging  bores  and  landing  clever  men  and  floating 
in  to  shore  on  the  high  tide  of  success  without 
letting  anybody  catch  me  at  my  harmless  little 
tricks  except  other  women.  I  wouldn't  let  them  if 
I  could  have  helped  myself.  But  other  women  are 


8o  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

sometimes  too  much  for  me.  I  never  wound  a 
man's  vanity.  Believe  me,  Alice,  it  is  the  best,  the 
only  safe  way.  Now  make  a  bona  fide  engagement 
with  me  to  spend  every  spare  moment  with  me 
which  you  do  not  care  to  spend  elsewhere.  Do  you 
promise  ?  Well,  now  you  can  truthfully  say, '  I  have 
another  engagement.'  " 

As  Miss  Vandevoort  ceased  speaking  she  watched 
Alice  wistfully,  as  though  the  absolute  truthfulness 
of  the  girl  appealed  to  her  in  a  very  tender  way, 
yet  she  mentally  stamped  it  impossible.  Miss  Van- 
devoort's  heart  and  intellect  generally  warred  in 
this  way. 

"  But  you  haven't  told  me  what  to  do,"  said  Alice. 

"  Oh  no.     Well,  let  me  think." 

She  laid  a  finger  on  her  lips,  and,  leaning  for 
ward,  stood  looking  at  the  toe  of  her  little  shoe 
with  serious  attention;  and  unconsciously  Alice,  as 
most  absorbed  persons  do,  followed  her  example, 
looking  down  and  regarding  it  with  equal  heed. 
Presently  a  light  broke  over  Miss  Vandevoort' s 
face  and  she  threw  back  her  head. 

"  I  have  it,"  she  said.  "Ask  no  questions,  but  put 
on  your  prettiest  frock,  the  one  which  fits  the  best 
in  the  back.  All  your  gowns  should  fit  best  in  the 
back,  for  your  back  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  observ 
er.  You  can  defend  the  front  in  fifty  ways,  but 
how  do  you  know  what  is  going  on  behind  you  ? 


GUARD-MOUNTING  8 1 

A  woman  of  genius  has  the  backs  of  her  gowns 
faultless.  Mine  are !  The  fronts  of  mine  are 
plain.  You  never  notice  them,  because  I  myself 
am  the  front  of  a  gown.  Now  listen.  Wear  your 
prettiest  and  go  with  him.  Keep  your  wits  about 
you  and  trust  the  rest  to  me." 

"  I  will,  I  truly  will !"  said  Alice,  impetuously. 
She  stood  looking  up  into  Miss  Vandevoort's  smil 
ing,  whimsical,  magnetic  face  with  the  dilated  gaze 
of  a  fascinated  child.  Miss  Vandevoort  had  capt 
ured  her  imagination,  and  opened  vistas  in  her 
own  life,  down  which  she  looked  with  a  breathless 
thrill.  The  possibilities  seemed  so  great.  Per 
haps  it  was  only  one  way  Miss  Vandevoort  had  of 
exercising  her  cleverness,  so  lightly  to  talk  with 
Alice  as  to  banish  her  depression  and  nerve  her 
for  her  difficult  talk.  In  this  she  had  succeeded  at 
any  rate.  Alice's  eyes  of  faith  made  her  own  al 
most  wistful  again. 

"  I  believe,"  breathed  Alice  fervently,  in  a  swift, 
exultant  comprehension  of  her  changed  spirits, 
"  that  you  could  almost  raise  the  dead,  you  are  so 
wonderful  and  so  much  alive !" 

It  was  but  an  idte  form  of  speech,  a  childish 
exaggeration  ;  but  her  smile  froze  as  she  saw  the 
horror  in  Miss  Vandevoort's  face.  Even  her  brill 
iant  scarlet  lips  grew  pale  under  Alice's  stricken 
gaze. 


52  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  Oh,  what  have  I  said  ?"  cried  Alice,  springing 
towards  her  and  seizing  her  hand. 

"  Nothing.  It  is  nothing.  Only  my  heart.  It 
troubles  me  at  times,"  gasped  Miss  Vandevoort, 
recovering  herself  with  a  visible  effort.  She  rubbed 
her  cheeks  with  both  hands  as  if  she  realized  their 
whiteness. 

Alice  watched  the  color  creep  back  into  her  face, 
and  Miss  Vandevoort  bore  her  anxious  gaze  un 
flinchingly  and  smiled  bravely.  And  it  was  only 
after  Alice,  entirely  reassured,  had  left  her,  that 
Kate  Vandevoort  turned  away,  out  of  the  sight  of 
everybody,  and  covered  her  trembling  lips  with  her 
hands  to  keep  down  a  bitter  cry,  murmuring  bro 
kenly, 

"  Raise  the  dead,  did  she  say  ?  O  God,  dear 
God,  if  I  only  could !" 


VII 

DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK 

"  I  WONDER,"  said  Miss  Vandevoort  to  herself  as 
she  came  out  of  the  hotel  on  the  veranda  and  began 
idly  to  pace  its  length,  apparently  absorbed  in  put 
ting  on  her  gloves,  but  in  reality  doing  sentry  duty, 
"  if  it  can  be  possible  that  these  two  young  creatures 
are  going  to  care  for  each  other,  or  am  I  deceived 
in  the  signs  ?  If  they  were  like  other  people — if 
Gordon  were  as  selfish  as  other  young  fellows — or 
if  Alice  were  as  frivolous  as  other  girls,  I  might 
think  this  were  only  a  passing  attraction  ;  but  they 
are  both  so  true.  Heavens,  how  it  brings  it  all 
back  !  How  will  it  end  with  them  ?  They  are  both 
so  young  and  so  unworldly.  How  hard  it  will  go 
with  either,  if  the  other  is  not  seriously  interested. 
I  could  easily  bring  myself  to  believe  in  both  of 
them  if  it  did  not  seem  too  good  to  be  true — and 
good  things  of  the  heart  come  so  seldom  in  this 
world.  Gordon  is  too  popular.  If  it  is  possible  to 
spoil  him  these  girls  will  do  it.  Ah,  bless  the  boy  ! 


84  THE    UNDER   SIDE    OF   THINGS 

I  can't  blame  them.  He  is  the  delight  of  my  eyes. 
But  if  I  let  him  know  it,  I  shall  be  just  as  unwise 
as  they.  I  really  pity  these  wonderfully  attrac 
tive  men,  with  such  a  natural,  irresistible  charm  as 
Gordon  has.  The  poor  fellows  have  no  chance 
to  be  modest  and  chivalrous.  It  is  all  our  fault. 
Dear  me,  I  wonder  if  that  difficult  young  person  — 
Miss  Alice  Copeland,  who  dislikes  young  men — has 
any  idea  of  what  a  dear  fellow  Gordon  is.  Well,  I 
must  see  what  I  can  do  to  stir  things  up.  I  can  be 
very  annoying  when  I  try.  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Counselman  ?  Am  I  not  a  wonder  to  be  ready 
ahead  of  time  and  actually  waiting  for  so  punctual 
a  person  as  yourself?" 

"  How  lovely  you  look,  Miss  Vandevoort !"  ex 
claimed  the  boy,  looking  at  her  out  of  his  smiling 
eyes  with  such  frank  admiration  that  she  colored. 

"Oh,  Gordon,  you  are  impossible.  There  is  no 
use  trying  to  reform  you.  Your  honesty  is  so  be 
lievable,  and  that  is  dangerous,  even  to  a  case-hard 
ened  person  like  myself.  I  really  catch  myself 
trying  to  look  well  for  you  !  Now  isn't  that  a  dread 
ful  admission,  when  I  had  just  determined  never  to 
say  another  thing  to  spoil  you  ?" 

Gordon  pulled  off  his  shako  and  laughed  such 
a  boyish,  hearty  laugh  that  two  old  ladies  turned 
their  heads  and  smiled  at  him.  Alice  Copeland 
heard  it,  coming  out  of  the  parlor  with  Senator 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  85 

Cobb,  and  she  took  an  involuntary  step  forward, 
thereby  losing  what  the  senator  was  saying,  and 
having  to  listen  to  it  all  over  again. 

What  girl  at  a  summer  resort  has  not  felt  the  mis 
ery  of  coming  out  on  the  veranda  with  the  wrong 
man,  only  to  see  the  right  man  with  another  girl  ? 
And  if  the  other  girl  was  having  her  glove  buttoned 
at  just  that  particular  moment,  as  Kate  was,  and 
your  own  soul's  property  was  bending  over  her  hand 
— actually  holding  it,  as  everybody  knows  a  man 
has  to  do  when  he  buttons  a  glove — -and  if  the  other 
girl  was  so  absorbed  in  the  interesting  process  that 
she  did  not  look  up  to  bow,  or  give  him  a  chance 
to  bow,  and  you  had  to  go  on  down  the  steps,  chat 
tering  to  this  other  man,  who  suddenly  has  become 
so  hateful  to  you  that  you  almost  wished  he  would 
trip  on  the  steps  and  land  on  his  head — then  you 
can  truthfully  say  that  you  know  what  real  mis 
ery  is. 

Kate  felt  a  pang  of  sympathy  for  Alice  as  she 
caught  her  imploring  look  and  steadfastly  "for  the 
sake  of  the  future"  refused  to  answer  it.  And  she 
saw  with  genuine  admiration  the  plucky  way  that 
Alice  gathered  herself  together  and  held  her  head 
high  and  chatted  with  the  senator. 

"  Ah,  there  goes  Alice  Copeland,"  said  Kate, 
calmly. 

"Where,  where?"   asked  Gordon,  dropping  her 


86  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

hand  and  looking  in  all  directions  except  the  right 
one. 

"  Why,  down  there.     See  ?" 

"  Then  come  on,"  said  Gordon,  eagerly,  picking 
up  his  helmet  and  straightening  himself. 

"  Come  where  ?"  asked  Miss  Vandevoort,  inno 
cently.  "  Are  you  going  to  follow  them  ?" 

"Why  no,  of  course  not,"  he  answered,  awkward 
ly.  "  Only  you  said — 

"I  said  that  /would  walk  with  you  if  you  liked. 
Alice  has  an  escort.  Look  how  well  she  carries 
herself.  Dear  me,  how  devoted  the  senator  seems. 
I  wonder  if  she  would  marry  him.  Her  mother 
would  favor  it  heart,  soul,  influence,  and  will  power. 
To  see  her  child  a  social  power  in  Washington. 
Dear,  dear,  how  well  she  would  like  it.  Did  you 
ever  see  Mrs.  Copeland,  Gordon  ?" 

"  No." 

"Ever  see  a  picture  of  her  ?" 

"No." 

"  Well,  if  you  ever  see  her,  look  at  her  nose.  The 
history  of  the  Copeland  family  is  written  in  the 
shape  of  Mrs.  Copeland's  nose.  My  dear  boy,  if 
Napoleon  could  have  seen  it,  he  would  have  made 
her  a  field-marshal." 

"  Isn't  Senator  Cobb  very  rich  ?"  asked  Gordon, 
presently,  with  his  brows  drawn  into  a  straight  line. 

"  I  believe  so.    But  the  Copelands  are  richer." 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  87 

"  Then  perhaps  Mrs.  Copeland  would  not  favor 
him  as  a  suitor  on  that  ground." 

"  It  is  power  she  covets,  not  wealth.  Stern  blue 
Presbyterian  that  she  is,  she  hankers  after  the  flesh- 
pots  of  Egypt.  She  would  like  to  have  the  judge 
in  the  Cabinet,  only  he  will  not  enter  politics — grand 
old  gentleman  that  he  is — and  how  she  would  revel 
in  the  social  despotism  that  would  be  hers." 

Kate  watched  him  narrowly  as  she  said  these 
things.  He  looked  after  Alice's  retreating  figure 
wistfully  a  moment,  then  squared  his  shoulders, 
and  the  sunny  look  came  back  into  his  eyes,  as  he 
said : 

"  If  Alice  Copeland  is  the  girl  I  take  her  to  be, 
she  will  marry  the  man  she  loves" 

"  Come  on,"  said  Kate,  gayly.  "  I  am  ready  now. 
Suppose  we  walk  down  old  Flirtation." 

"  Why,  we  must  have  walked  faster  than  they,  for 
here  we  are  almost  upon  them,"  she  said  in  her 
most  guileless  manner,  ten  minutes  later. 

Gordon  looked  down  at  her  quizzically,  but  she 
looked  back  at  him  with  such  innocence  that  he 
laughed  aloud,  and  Alice  turned  around  and  smiled 
at  them. 

"  Wait  for  us !"  cried  Kate,  swinging  her  parasol 
at  them. 

"  What  a  darling  you  are !"  whispered  Gordon, 
audaciously. 


88  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  How  disrespectful  of  you,"  said  Kate.  "  What 
do  you  mean?" 

She  looked  so  surprised  that  Gordon  was  abashed. 
He  was  so  honest  himself  that  Miss  Vandevoort's 
brilliant  changes  of  base  always  nonplussed  him. 
But  that  astute  young  woman  had  no  intention  of 
openly  championing  his  cause  until  she  felt  her 
ground  secure  beneath  her  feet. 

"  Senator  Cobb,"  she  said,  when  they  all  four 
stopped  to  speak,  "  do  you  remember  what  I  was 
telling  you  in  Washington  last  month  about  Mrs. 
Frederick's  flirtation  with  Captain  Connor  of  the 
navy  ?" 

"Yes,  yes,  I  remember,"  said  the  senator,  eager 
ly,  who  dearly  loved  a  bit  of  gossip. 

"  Well,  I  know  the  rest  of  it  now.  Some  time 
I'll  tell  you,  if  you  promise  solemnly  not  to  repeat 
it.  But  I  wonder  if  I  can  trust  you  ?" 

"Oh,  indeed  you  can,  my  dear  lady.  I  never 
speak  of  such  things.  Was  it  as  we  thought?" 

"  Never  mind  now.  I  must  not  intrude  upon 
your  walk  with  Miss  Copeland.  I'll  tell  you  some 
time  when  you  come  up  to  New  York." 

"  Oh,  I  never  can  wait  that  long.  Tell  me  now. 
Perhaps  Miss  Copeland  will  walk  with  Mr.  Coun- 
selman  for  a  minute  or  two." 

"Well,  come  on,  then.  Leave  them  to  follow. 
But  mind  you  never  breathe  this." 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  89 

And  so  for  a  blissful  thirty  minutes  Gordon 
Counselman  and  Alice  followed  in  the  wake  of  a 
bald  head  and  a  bronze  head  which  were  so  close 
together  that  when  they  met  Mrs.  Verry  and  Pratt, 
Mrs.  Verry  was  guilty  of  the  indiscretion  of  turning 
to  look  after  them. 

Miss  Vandevoort  made  such  good  use  of  her 
time  with  the  senator  from  Ohio  that  he  walked  all 
the  way  back  with  her,  and  Alice  only  joined  them 
when  Gordon  dashed  away  to  take  part  in  dress- 
parade. 

Seldom  does  the  parade-ground  present  so  brill 
iant  a  sight  as  during  graduation  week,  when  hosts 
of  visitors  and  pretty  girls  and  proud  relatives  are 
gathered  there  to  do  homage  to  the  most  beautiful 
sight  in  the  world — a  perfectly  trained  battalion  on 
a  perfect  parade-ground. 

The  Board  of  Visitors  was  unusually  imposing 
this  year,  and  the  array  of  beautiful  girls  unusually 
attractive  ;  but  Alice,  from  the  moment  she  saw  that 
parade  form,  forgot  everything  except  that  all  those 
men,  with  their  apparently  perfect  uniforms  and 
shining  equipments  and  faultless  appearance,  were 
not  so  perfect  or  so  faultless  as  Gordon,  for  he,  her 
hero,  was  first  captain  of  them  all. 

It  was  an  impressive  sight.  The  visitors  made  a 
bright  spot  of  color  in  front  of  the  officers'  quar 
ters,  with  the  old  gray  academy  buildings  looming  up 


go  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

on  one  side,  while  away  off  at  the  other  the  grim 
barracks  were  aligned,  in  front  of  which  the  com 
panies  were  forming.  The  lovely  Hudson  flowed 
softly  beneath  the  bluff,  visible  beyond  the  Point 
like  a  curving  band  of  silver.  The  sunlight  slanted 
across  the  smooth  parade-ground,  glimmering  on 
company  after  company  of  cadets  in  full-dress  uni 
forms,  being  marched  up  from  their  quarters  by 
proud  cadet  officers,  who  endeavored  to  look  as  if 
all  this  fuss-and-feathers  was  a  good  deal  of  a  bore 
to  full-grown  men,  and  never  knowing  that  their  in 
genuous  young  countenances  hopelessly  betrayed 
the  fact  that  they  loved  every  unnecessary  inch  of 
red  tape,  and  that  they  wouldn't  have  exchanged 
places  with  civilians  in  dun-colored  tweeds  for  all 
that  this  world  had  to  offer. 

The  advancing  column  halted  at  a  word,  as  mo 
tionless  as  statues.  Alice  could  see  Gordon  in  the 
post  of  honor  at  the  extreme  right.  He  was  the 
first  to  step  forward  with  a  command  to  his  com 
pany.  All  the  other  cadet  captains  had  to  follow 
him.  Then  the  band  marched  out,  as  if  to  show 
//z^;;zselves,  and  paraded  down  the  front  of  the  col 
umn  and  back  again,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Now, 
boys,  watch  us.  This  is  the  way  you  want  to 
march."  How  the  girls  loved  that  band !  They 
never  could  make  up  their  minds  which  to  prefer, 
the  bearskin  of  the  drum-major  or  the  gold-lace  of 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  91 

the  adjutant,  who,  just  as  soon  as  the  band  got 
back  to  their  places,  gave  a  hoarse  command,  which 
nobody  understood,  because  that  would  have  been 
un military.  Everybody  obeyed  it,  however,  because 
the  ranks  opened  and  all  the  officers  marched  for 
ward  in  front  of  their  companies  and  halted. 

Again  the  adjutant  gave  a  hoarse  cough,  and  all 
the  long  column  presented  arms  as  if  pulled  by  one 
string,  while  the  officers  saluted.  Then  came  the 
adjutant's  turn  to  subside  for  a  while.  Having  done 
all  that  could  reasonably  be  expected  of  one  man, 
he  wheeled,  saluted  the  commandant,  and  said,  in 
a  more  conversational  tone,  "  Sir,  the  parade  is 
formed."  At  least  the  girls  heard  that.  Two  or 
three  of  the  liveliest  mimicked  his  salute  and  touch 
ed  their  big  leghorn  hats  with  their  hands.  It 
annoyed  Alice.  She  thought  it  disrespectful,  not 
to  say  sacrilegious.  She  wished  Gordon  had  been 
nearer,  so  that  she  could  see  his  face. 

The  adjutant  was  at  his  post,  and  the  comman 
dant  was  putting  the  men  through  a  drill  all  too  short 
to  satisfy  the  voracious  admiration  of  the  girls,  who 
wished  he  had  left  them  there  indefinitely.  The 
stupid  part  of  dress-parade  to  women  is  where  they 
receive  reports  and  instructions.  Everybody  talks 
during  this  time.  But  when  the  order  came  "  Pa 
rade  is  dismissed,"  and  the  adjutant  took  his  place 
in  the  centre  of  the  line  of  officers,  who  closed  in 


92  THE    UNDER    SIDE   OF    THINGS 

upon  him  in  front  of  the  battalion,  forming  a  small 
and  exclusive  column,  Gordon,  as  first  captain,  still 
at  the  right,  a  sharp  word  of  command  came  from 
the  adjutant  himself,  and  then,  oh,  then  the  col 
umn  of  officers,  with  the  band  blowing  itself  red  in 
the  face,  marched  up,  up,  up,  like  beautiful,  live,  hu 
man  machines,  towards  the  commandant,  standing 
in  rigid  and  solitary  dignity,  and  towards  the  visitors, 
who  applauded  them  mightily,  and  towards  the  girls, 
who  leaned  forward  with  eyes  blazing  with  excite 
ment  and  cheeks  aflame  with  delight.  Alice  felt 
her  heart  almost  turn  over  with  pride  and  gratitude 
and  love,  and  even  Kate  Vandevoort's  eyes  swam 
in  tears  of  sympathy  as  she  squeezed  the  hand 
Alice  had  impetuously  thrust  into  hers. 

Ah,  it  was  a  brave  sight,  and  all  too  soon  over. 
It  was  beautiful  to  see  how  carelessly  the  cadet 
officers  strolled  up  afterwards  to  mingle  with  the 
visitors  and  to  parry  the  enthusiasm  of  fond  moth 
ers  and  lively  girls,  with  a  fine  disregard  of  their 
eager  compliments,  but  an  ear  greedy  for  more  of 
the  same  thing. 

George  Copeland  began  to  open  his  eyes  when 
he  saw  what  a  centre  of  attraction  his  sister  had  be 
come.  He  was  bored  to  death  by  cadets  begging 
to  be  introduced,  and  to  his  disgust  he  found  that 
whenever  he  wanted  Counselman,  it  would  be  bet 
ter  and  simpler  just  to  look  for  Alice.  He  never 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  93 

had  thought  her  pretty  in  Stockbriclge.  In  fact,  he 
never  had  thought  of  her  at  all,  except  when  he 
wanted  her  to  wait  on  him,  for  her  willing  feet  flew 
on  his  errands  as  ungrudgingly  as  on  her  mother's. 
But  here  she  was  so  pretty  that  he  was  surprised. 

He  went  up  to  his  father  and  handed  him  a  let 
ter. 

"  Here  is  a  letter  for  sister,  sir,  which  came  in 
one  of  mine,"  he  said. 

"  From  whom,  son  ?" 

"  From  mother,"  he  answered,  his  face  darken 
ing  involuntarily. 

"What  did  she  have  to  say?     How  is  she?" 

"  Here  it  is.  I  haven't  read  it,  sir.  I — I  haven't 
had  time,"  he  stammered,  in  answer  to  his  father's 
quick  glance. 

"Thank  you,  son,"  said  Judge  Copeland,  putting 
the  letter  in  his  pocket.  He  fingered  the  one  ad 
dressed  to  Alice  uncertainly,  and  looked  affection 
ately  at  her  bright  face,  where  the  color  was  flutter 
ing  as  he  never  had  seen  it  before.  He  looked  down 
at  the  letter  again,  then  sighed  and  put  it  with  the 
other.  He  did  not  realize  that  George  was  watch 
ing  him. 

"  That's  right,"  muttered  George,  turning  away. 
"  No  use  in  spoiling  the  child's  pleasure  now.  I'll 
bet  the  governor  doesn't  read  mine  in  a  hurry  for 
all  he's  so  polite  about  it."  He  scowled  as  he 


94  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

thought  of  the  pile  in  his  quarters,  unopened  and 
unanswered,  into  which  his  mother  had  poured  a 
great  deal  of  mother  love  in  spite  of  being  so  mixed 
up  with  the  bulletins  of  the  sick  in  Stockbriclge, 
and  advice  about  his  own  health — that  no  one  but 
Job  or  a  woman  could  have  stood  it  to  read  them. 
Gordon  was  one  of  the  managers  of  the  hop,  and 
had  to  tear  himself  away  early,  leaving  Alice  an  op 
portunity  to  be  very  quiet  as  she  walked  back  to  the 
hotel  with  Miss  Vandevoort  and  Senator  Cobb. 

The  only  thing  she  remembered  about  dinner  was 
being  very  much  amused  at  an  enormous  bouquet 
of  yellow  roses  that  Senator  Cobb  had  caused  to  be 
sent  to  Miss  Vandevoort,  as  a  result  of  that  charm 
ing  young  lady's  coquetry  of  the  morning.  Then 
there  was  a  breathless  hour  in  which  she  dressed 
herself  for  the  hop — eager,  nay,  anxious  almost  to 
the  verge  of  tears,  to  be  lovely  just  that  one  night  for 
Gordon  Counselman's  sake.  No  need  for  Kate  Van 
devoort  to  advise  her  to  wear  her  very  prettiest  frock 
or  to  look  more  animated,  Her  nervousness  flushed 
her  cheeks  and  made  her  great  eyes  black,  so  that 
when  Miss  Vandevoort  rapped  smartly  on  Alice's 
door  and  came  in  to  inspect  her  costume  and  to 
urge  her  to  take  herself  well  in  hand,  instead  of 
the  shy,  timid  little  maid  from  Stockbridge  she  had 
expected  to  see,  she  was  confronted  by  a  radiant 
creature  with  eyes  like  stars,  who  held  her  head 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  95 

high  and  challenged  your  best  admiration  on  the 
spot. 

"  Man  Dieu  /"  cried  Miss  Vandevoort.  "  Where 
is  the  little  Alice  Copeland  I  came  to  see  ?  I  am 
looking  fora  little  mouse  of  a  girl,  whose  hair  I  was 
to  tidy  and  whose  tucker  I  was  to  smooth,  and  who 
was  going  to  creep  into  my  pocket  and  only  poke 
her  head  out  for  George  to  dance  with  twice  and 
for  her  father  to  take  into  supper.  Where  is  she  ?" 

"  Oh,"  laughed  Alice,  clasping  her  hands  together 
in  delight,  "  am  I  so  different?  I  feel  different, 
Miss  Vandevoort.  I  never  felt  this  way  before.  I 
have  always  hated  to  dance,  but  to-night  I  hope 
that  I  shall  be  asked  often.  I  can  hardly  wait  to 
begin." 

Miss  Vandevoort  reached  out  for  support  in  a 
surprise  which  was  not  feigned. 

"Alice,"  she  said,  weakly,  "you'll  be  the  death 
of  me.  Your  Quaker  attitude  of  yesterday  con 
trasted  with  youry£«  de  siech  attitude  of  to-day  is  too 
much  for  my  feeble  brain  to  grasp.  I  never  realized 
the  magic  of  old  Flirtation  before." 

"  It  wasn't  that — "  began  Alice,  hastily.  But 
Kate  held  up  her  hand. 

"  Uoii't  add  the  sin  of  falsehood  to  your  other 
crimes,  Alice,"  she  said,  solemnly. 

"  What  other  crimes  ?"  asked  Alice. 

"  The  crime  of  deceiving  me.    I  thought  you  were 


96  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

a  little  brown  wren.  I  find  you  a  bird-of-paradise. 
Come  on !  I  hear  the  band.  We  mustn't  miss  a 
moment  to-night !  As  a  rule  I  make  a  triumphant 
entry  late,  looking  cool  and  fresh  when  the  other 
girls  are  warm  and  a  trifle  dishevelled  from  a  waltz ; 
but  to-night  I  want  to  be  early  and  sit  in  the  bald- 
headed  row  and  see  the  curtain  go  up.  Here  is 
your  fan.  Tuck  your  handkerchief  in  there.  Where 
are  your  hair-pins?  I  want  just  one  to  fasten  this 
curl.  Now,  I  think  you  are  perfect.  Who  sent 
these  flowers — Senator  Cobb  ?" 

"No.  Mr. — Mr.  C  —  Counselman  sent  them," 
stammered  Alice  with  flaming  cheeks. 

Miss  Vandevoort  turned  her  head  away  and  bit 
her  lips.  Not  for  worlds  would  she  have  had  Alice 
see  her  smile. 

''They  are  very  handsome,"  she  said.  "That 
looks  like  a  bouquet  that  Gordon  Counselman  would 
send.  Pink  roses  and  lilies-of-the-valley.  I  really 
think  that  is  the  most  beautiful  and  appropriate  bou 
quet  I  ever  saw." 

"Do  you,  really?"  cried  Alice.  "I  thought  so, 
but  I  didn't  expect  everybody  to  agree  with  me." 

"I  do,  at  any  rate,  and  I  am  a  judge.  You  can 
tell  quite  a  good  deal  about  a  man  by  the  kind  of 
flowers  he  sends  you." 

"  Then  Senator  Cobb  must  be  very  artistic,"  said 
Alice,  laughing. 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  97 

"  Senator  Cobb  has  an  artistic  florist.  He  never 
designates  what  kind  of  flowers  shall  be  sent.  Gor 
don  does.  Now  hold  your  dress  up  on  both  sides 
— a  little  more  on  the  left — and  come  with  me." 

Judge  Copeland,  Senator  Cobb,  and  George  Cope- 
land  were  waiting  for  them,  and  as  soon  as  they  ap 
peared  at  the  door  of  the  hop-room,  Gordon  Coun- 
selinan  was  with  them  instantly,  looking  past  all  the 
other  girls — past  even  lovely  Kate  Vandevoort  her 
self — to  Alice,  who  never  looked  so  pretty  nor  so 
sweet  as  when  she  laid  her  hand  shyly  on  Gordon's 
arm  and  paused  to  look  at  the  decorations,  all  of 
which,  though  he  would  not  say  so,  were  his  taste. 

No  one  could  deny  that  the  room  was  beautiful, 
for  the  military  lends  itself  readily  to  decorations. 
From  crossed  sabres  and  stacked  arms  up  to  small 
cannon,  everywhere  were  the  signs  of  the  peaceful 
side  of  war ;  and  over  and  under  and  above,  in  all 
kinds  of  soft  draperies  and  flowing  festoons,  the 
flag — the  dear,  dear  flag — that  flag  which  taste  and 
love  and  patriotism  all  combine  to  make  us  think 
the  most  beautiful  in  the  world  ;  the  flag  which 
pulls  at  your  heartstrings  like  a  human  thing  when 
you  see  it  floating  anywhere  ;  which  makes  you  want 
to  put  your  hand  on  it  and  love  it  if  you  see  pict 
ures  of  it  with  hosts  of  others  ;  which,  when  you  ac 
cidentally  run  across  it  in  Europe,  makes  you  want 
to  kiss  and  hug  and  cry  over  it,  if  you  are  a  woman, 

7 


g8  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

and  stand  up  and  take  your  hat  off  to  it,  if  you  are  a 
man. 

Gordon  watched  Alice  as  her  eyes  fell  upon  these 
flags.  She  looked  up  at  him  without  speaking,  and 
he  pressed  the  hand  which  lay  on  his  arm  against 
his  tight  gray  coat,  and,  perhaps,  she  closed  her 
fingers  a  little  more  closely  on  his  sleeve ;  but  of 
that  no  one  can  be  sure.  At  any  rate,  they  under 
stood  each  other  without  words,  as  we  are  told  lov 
ers  have  a  little  way  of  doing,  so  that  when  Gordon 
said  "  I  love  it,"  Alice  said  "  So  do  I,"  and  each 
knew  that  the  other  meant  the  flag. 

Who  shall  describe  a  girl's  first  ball,  with  plenty 
of  partners  and  her  dress  satisfactory  and  the  floor 
good  and  the  band  military,  and  the  man  of  her 
heart  the  superb  dancer  that  Gordon  Counselman 
was  ? 

Gordon  danced  with  just  the  same  generous 
enthusiasm  and  out-of-door  swing  that  he  put  into 
his  riding  and  his  swimming.  It  was  whole-hearted 
and  athletic  and  elastic,  and  people  always  watched 
him  and  felt  the  younger  for  it,  and  asked  who  he 
was. 

George  came  up  after  Alice's  card  was  filled  and 
asked  to  see  it.  He  hated  to  dance,  but  it  was 
something  to  step  into  a  ring  of  '  the  other  fellows  " 
crowding  around  a  girl,  and  to  call  her  by  her  Chris 
tian  name,  and  to  pat  her  hand  with  an  air  of  pro- 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  99 

prietorship  which  made  "  the  other  fellows  "  greet 
with  envy. 

"  Why,  your  card  is  all  filled,"  he  said,  in  a  tone 
of  disappointment.  Alice  was  so  surprised  that  he 
really  showed  some  feeling,  and  so  grateful  and  so 
touched,  that  she  almost  stammered  in  her  eager 
ness  to  explain. 

"  No,  George,  I  saved  one  for  you.  This  one 
with  the  cross  over  it.  That  is  for  you.  I  saved  it. 
I  thought  perhaps  you  would  be  late  asking  me." 

There  was  no  reproach  in  her  honest  little  soft 
voice,  and  it  was  sisterly  affection  and  gratitude  for 
his  notice  which  flushed  her  cheeks  in  such  a  be 
witching  manner  that  Gordon  Counselman  was 
obliged  to  turn  away  for  fear  "  the  other  fellows  " 
would  see  how  he  felt  about  her.  "  The  other 
fellows  "  are  both  the  Mrs.  Grundy  and  the  Sir 
Hubert  of  West  Point. 

Alice  Copeland's  evening,  if  one  might  judge  by 
her  radiant  face,  possessed  no  drawbacks,  even  in 
spite  of  Gordon's  undoubted  popularity  with  buds, 
young  ladies,  and  even  old  ladies,  who  would  stop 
him,  to  pat  his  arm  and  ask  how  he  was  enjoying 
himself,  when  he  was  dashing  from  one  partner  to 
another. 

Perhaps  his  unfortunate  experience  of  the  morn 
ing  had  taught  him  a  lesson  in  the  despatch  neces 
sary  to  exercise  with  a  popular  girl,  for  in  that 


IOO  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

walk  clown  old  Flirtation,  he  had  mapped  out  the 
dances  he  wanted  with  Alice,  and  she  had  given 
them  to  him  with  such  shy,  happy  eyes  that  the 
impetuous  young  cadet  wanted  to  tell  her  right  then 
and  there  that  he  loved  her  with  all  his  boyish 
heart  and  soul,  and  perhaps  Alice  wouldn't  have 
been  so  very  angry  if  he  had. 

Miss  Vandevoort  stopped  in  at  Alice's  room,  after 
it  was  over,  to  talk  about  it. 

"  Did  you  have  a  good  time,  dearie  ?" 

"Oh,  so  good  !"  cried  Alice,  clasping  her  hands. 
"  I  do  believe  I  am  the  happiest  girl  in  the  world. 
Everything  is  so  beautiful,  isn't  it  ?" 

"Yes,  everything.  And  I  have  the  most  beauti 
ful  news  of  all  to  tell  you  now." 

"  Oh,  what  is  it  ?  How  could  anything  be  lovelier 
than  to-night  has  been  ?" 

"Well,  your  brother  has  invited  Gordon  Counsel- 
man  to  spend  part  of  his  leave  at  your  house,  and 
perhaps  Mollie  Overshine  will  ask  me  down  to 
Stockbridge  for  the  same  time." 

"Oh,  dear  Miss  Vandevoort!" 

Alice  could  say  no  more.  She  wanted  to  say  so 
much,  but  something  came  up  in  her  throat  and 
choked  her.  Perhaps  it  was  her  own  great  happi 
ness.  Perhaps  it  was  a  something  in  Kate  Van- 
devoort's  wistful,  smiling  eyes.  But  whatever  it 
was,  when  Kate  made  a  little  impetuous  movement 


DOWN    FLIRTATION    WALK  IOI 

of  her  arms  as  if  to  open  them,  Alice  sprang  forward 
and  flung  herself  into  them,  hiding  her  face  in  the 
laces  on  Kate's  breast,  and  clinging  to  her  dumbly 
as  if  knowing  that  she  understood  because  she  was 
a  woman.  And  while  they  stood  thus,  a  voice  from 
below,  which  they  both  recognized  as  Gordon  Coun- 
selman's,  began  to  sing  the  first  verse  of  that  dear 
old  song,  "Benny  Havens,  O,"  and  instantly  voice 
after  voice  caught  it  up,  until  the  cadets  were  ser 
enading  the  girls  at  the  hotel  with,  save  and  except 
ing  "Fair  Harvard,"  the  most  musical,  the  most 
pathetic,  the  most  haunting  college  melody  ever 
sung  by  human  throats  : 

"Fill  up  your  glasses,  fellows, 

And  stand  up  in  a  row, 
To  sentimental  drinking  we 

Are  going  for  to  go. 
In  the  army  of  sobriety, 

Promotion's  rather  slow, 
We'll  sigh  o'er  reminiscences 

Of  Benny  Havens,  O !  " 

As  these  words  rang  clearly  out  upon  the  quiet 
ni°-ht,  Alice  felt  the  sudden  clutch  of  Kate's  arms 

o        7 

around  her,  and  Kate  bent  her  tall  head  and  laid 
her  cheek  on  Alice's  soft  hair  a  moment,  and  a  sob 
rose  in  her  throat  that  Alice  could  not  help  but 
hear — oh,  the  memories  of  old  songs!  —  then  she 
put  the  girl  gently  away  from  her  and  went  out, 


102  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

still  without  speaking.    Perhaps  she  could  not  bear 
to  have  Alice  see  her  face. 

When  she  had  gone,  Alice  went  and  knelt  down 
by  the  open  window  and  listened  to  the  fresh  young 
voices  which  floated  the  music  up  to  her  as  if  on 
wings,  and  it  all  seemed  so  beautiful  and  so  sad, 
and  she  was  young  and  so  much  in  love  that  she 
began  to  cry  very  softly,  as  if  she,  too,  had  memories 
which  the  dear  song  waked  to  life — only  she  hadn't. 
But  it  never  does  women  any  harm  to  weep  and  sob 
and  cry  their  hearts  out  over  tender,  old-fashioned 
music.  And  if  they  were  not  just  that  gentle  and 
sentimental  and  soft-hearted,  the  men  would  never 
love  them  as  they  do. 


VIII 
COUNTER-IRRITANTS 

MRS.  COPELAND  so  seldom  indorsed  anybody 
whom  the  family  liked  that  it  was  quite  a  pleasant 
surprise  to  them  when  she  metaphorically  took 
Kate  Vandevoort  to  her  bosom  and  made  it  evi 
dent  by  her  thawed  manner  that  the  Vandevoorts' 
ancestry  equalled  the  Copelands'.  Furthermore, 
and  in  addition  to  this  fundamental  fact,  Kate 
was  a  stupendous  social  success,  the  belle  of  three 
cities.  This,  too,  had  its  weight. 

An  idol  of  the  people  is  on  so  insecure  a  footing 
that  it  behooves  one  who  aspires  to  that  slippery 
elevation  to  look  well  to  what  sort  of  a  cushion  is 
beneath  him,  unless  he  likewise  aspires  to  broken 
bones  and  bruised  feelings,  for,  by  a  single  "Thumbs 
down,"  he  is  apt  to  find  himself  shaken  up,  out  of 
breath  and  dizzy  from  his  fall. 

A  social  idol,  a  belle,  is  perhaps  in  the  most  pre 
carious  situation  of  all,  and  this  made  the  trium 
phal  march  of  Miss  Vandevoort  all  the  more  surpris- 


104  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

ing,  inasmuch  as  she  conquered  everything  and 
everybody,  wherever  she  chose,  and  did  it  apparent 
ly  without  effort.  It  was  not  that  she  was  so 
beautiful — hosts  of  buds  came  on  the  scene  of  ac 
tion  whose  features  were  more  regular  than  hers. 
It  was  not  because  she  had  family  and  great  wealth 
at  her  back  ;  many  girls  have  failed  to  become 
belles  who  have  had  both.  Nor  could  it  be  laid 
entirely  to  her  personal  magnetism,  although  it 
could  not  fail  of  being  a  somewhat  potent  factor 
when  it  was  sufficient  to  win  over  and  hold  some 
who  openly  avowed  enmity  before  coming  in  range 
of  her  electricity.  Perhaps  more  than  all,  but  in 
conjunction  with  these  necessary  attractions,  it  was 
her  absolutely  sincere  interest  in  the  lives  of  other 
people,  which  never  fails  to  fascinate,  and  her  sense 
of  humor,  that  gift  of  the  gods,  who  show  how  lit 
tle  they  value  women  by  their  niggardliness  tow 
ards  them  with  this  celestial  gift.  We  women  have 
a  right  to  question  the  wisdom  of  Olympus,  when 
we,  who  must  of  necessity  cope  with  the  petty,  nar 
row,  hateful  woman-worries  of  life,  are  only  given 
the  shield  of  Patience  and  are  denied  the  buckler 
of  Humor,  when  we  might  just  as  well  have  had 
both  and  been  invulnerable,  all  but  the  heel. 

Tito  Melema  maintained  his  popularity  by  pre 
tending  to  give  the  honor  to  another,  always  an 
other,  and  apparently  keeping  himself  in  the  back- 


COUNTER-IRRITANTS  105 

ground,  which  cunning  policy  served  to  'keep  him 
the  idol  of  the  people  until  they  discovered  that 
they  were  being  tricked. 

Although  Miss  Vandevoort  was  just  the  one  to 
appreciate  the  cleverness  of  Tito,  she  was  far  too 
impatient  of  the  restrictions  which  any  set  policy 
imposed  to  bind  herself  to  anything  which  threat 
ened  to  fetter  her  freedom  to  be  individual  and 
natural.  The  whimsical  theories  which  she  ex 
pounded  to  Alice  Copeland  she  lived  up  to  truly, 
yet  only  because  her  nature,  in  spite  of  her  free 
speech,  was  of  the  kindliest,  and  because  it  was 
natural  to  her  to  wish  to  please. 

Thus,  when  she  turned  her  amused  eyes  on  one 
who  mentioned  her  popularity  in  her  presence,  he 
at  once  felt  that  she,  too,  was  but  an  interested 
spectator  at  the  show,  and  that  she  held  it  at  its 
proper  value,  even  scorning  what  might  so  easily 
be  lost.  She  mocked  and  laughed  at  the  idea  that 
people  seriously  discussed  the  fact  that  she  was  a 
belle,  and  held  them  and  herself  and  all  such  up  to 
such  sincere  ridicule  that  they  were  compelled, 
much  against  their  will,  half-way  to  believe  her.  In 
consequence  they,  too,  turned  around  and  gave  her 
the  homage  which  she  seemed  to  value  so  lightly, 
and  which,  with  the  true  amiability  of  human  nat 
ure,  they  so  gladly  would  have  withheld  had  they 
felt  that  she  depended  upon  it. 


106  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Mrs.  Gopeland  reverenced  Power ;  perhaps  be 
cause  circumstances,  Fate,  Destiny,  what  you  will, 
had  denied  her  the  exercise  of  it,  save  in  a  small 
way,  she  reverenced  Social  Power  more  than  all. 

Not  through  the  Overshines  alone,  but  in  count 
less  ways — through  travellers  who  had  met  her 
abroad,  through  the  vulgar  channels  of  the  daily 
newspapers,  which  Mrs.  Copeland  openly  de 
nounced,  and  read  in  private,  and  through  her 
hosts  of  friends  in  Philadelphia  and  New  York 
who  knew  Kate — did  Mrs.  Copeland  become  con 
versant  with  her  social  successes.  So  when  this 
young  goddess  signified  her  willingness  not  only  to 
pay  her  cousin  Mollie  Overshine  a  visit,  but  to 
meet  and  mingle  with  Stockbridge  society,  a  thing 
which  she  never  had  done  before,  the  secret  delight 
of  several  first  families  almost  burst  their  good 
Quaker  bounds.  However  much  the  people  living 
there  might  discuss  their  chronic  ill -health  and 
deprecate  the  unbroken  quiet  of  Stockbridge,  they 
sincerely  objected  to  having  a  New  York  belle 
frankly  declare  that  hitherto  she  had  used  their 
town  simply  as  a  sanitarium. 

When  she  arrived  Mrs.  Copeland  at  once  called 
upon  her,  and  invited  the  Overshines  and  Miss  Van- 
devoort  to  dine,  changing  her  dinner-hour,  as  she 
did  upon  state  occasions,  from  noon  to  seven  o'clock, 
for  the  accommodation  of  their  honored  guest. 


COUNTER-IRRITANTS  1 07 

Kate  arrayed  herself  with  unusual  care  for  that 
dinner  at  the  Copelands,  and  she  was  quite  thought 
ful  for  several  hours  beforehand.  Her  casual  ac 
quaintance  with  Mrs.  Copeland,  supplemented  by 
Mollie  Overshine's  shrewd  anecdotes,  had  taught 
her  that  here  was  a  foeman  worthy  of  her  steel — a 
woman  who  would  unflinchingly  sacrifice  her  daugh 
ter's  happiness  to  her  own  ambition.  In  meeting 
her  again,  she  felt  that  peculiar  antagonized  feeling 
to  which  impressionable  natures  are  so  sensitive. 
You  can  only  explain  this  to  one  who  is  in  the 
habit  of  experiencing  it.  Mrs.  Copeland  never 
would  have  understood  it.  She  had  no  intuitions, 
and  she  often  thanked  Heaven  that  she  was  not 
sensitive. 

As  Kate  swept  into  the  Copeland  drawing-room 
in  an  evening  dress  so  extreme  that  it  looked  as  if 
it  were  slipping  from  her  polished  shoulders,  Mrs. 
Copeland  simply  closed  her  eyes.  But  she  opened 
them  again  when  she  remembered  that  it  was  Miss 
Vandevoort  who  wore  it. 

Kate  possessed  an  electrical  nature  which  groped 
after  hidden  elements  of  discomfort  and  pleasure, 
and  repelled  the  foreign  or  appropriated  her  own 
whenever  she  found  either.  She  could  enter  a 
room  full  of  strangers  and  select  those  whom  she 
would  like  and  who  would  like  her  before  speaking 
to  any  of  them. 


108  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

In  this  instance  she  knew  that  there  was  a  dis 
turbing  element  present.  She  wondered  what  it 
was.  She  set  herself  quietly  to  observe  and  to 
wrest  the  true  cause  from  some  one  unaware. 

Alice  was  quiet  and  subdued  —  no  longer  the 
Alice  of  West  Point.  The  judge  too  had  lost  some 
of  the  assured  charm  of  manner  which  comes  from 
a  sensitive  nature  feeling  itself  constantly  approved 
of.  Kate  smiled  to  realize  that  even  she  felt  in  a 
measure  quieted,  for  Mrs.  Copeland  had  a  digni 
fied  way  of  making  her  guests  feel  the  honor  of 
being  beneath  her  distinguished  roof. 

Miss  Vandevoort,  who  loved  children,  suddenly 
spied  Elsie,  lean,  sallow,  and  unlovely,  and  moved 
by  pity  for  so  forlorn  a  specimen  of  petted  child 
hood,  turned  and  greeted  her  kindly.  But  to  her 
unspeakable  dismay  Elsie  immediately  burst  into 
tears  and  thrust  herself  behind  her  mother. 

"Oh,  Miss  Vandevoort,  I  neglected  to  tell  you," 
said  Mrs.  Copeland,  "  that  we  never  speak  sud 
denly  to  Elsie  like  that.  My  child  is  very  timid, 
and  I  have  been  three  days  persuading  her  to  come 
into  the  drawing-room  at  all  to-night.  She  suffers 
so  from  hysteria.  We  approach  her  very  cau 
tiously." 

The  corners  of  Kate's  mouth  twitched.  When 
she  found  it  was  hysteria,  and  not  that  the  child 
had  cut  her  hand  off  or  burst  a  blood-vessel,  it 


COUNTER-IRRITANTS  109 

was  with  difficulty  that  Kate  kept  herself  from 
jumping  at  Elsie  and  giving  her  something  to  cry 
for. 

"  How  sadly  the  child  is  afflicted,"  sighed  Mrs. 
Overshine. 

Kate  suddenly  remembered  that  everybody  in 
Stockbridge  had  a  chronic  ailment,  and  this  incident 
revealed  in  a  flash  how  they  were  acquired.  Real 
izing  a  neglected  duty,  she  said,  with  well  simulated 
sympathy,  "  Do  tell  me,  dear  Mrs.  Copeland,  how 
is  your  poor  head  ?" 

"  It  is  very  bad,  thank  you,  Miss  Vandevoort. 
Some  days  I  am  truly  wretched  with  it.  Oh,  no 
one  knows  my  sufferings." 

"  What  a  pity  !  And  you  look  so  well,  too.  No 
one  would  believe  you  were  such  a  martyr  if  he  did 
not  hear  the  statement  from  your  own  lips.  And 
the  judge,  is  his — his  dyspepsia  better  ?" 

"  Well,  not  very  much.  He  spent  a  sleepless 
night,  and,  as  you  see,  looks  pale  this  evening." 

"  And  Gifford,  is  he  quite  well  ?" 

"No,  Gifford  cut  his  wrist  with  a  penknife  yes 
terday,  and  I  persuaded  him  to  have  the  doctor 
see  it.  He  said  if  it  had  been  two  inches  higher 
it  might  have  been  serious." 

"  How  fortunate  those  two  inches  are  !  And 
George,  has  he  arrived  ?" 

"  No,  he  is  still  in  New  York,  and  I  am  afraid 


110  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

he  is  ill.  I  wrote  him  a  ten-page  letter,  filled  with 
advice  about  his  health,  and  telling  him  all  the  pri 
mary  symptoms  of  several  diseases  that  I  hear  are 
prevailing  there,  and  pleading  with  him  as  only  a 
mother  can,  to  sit  down  and  think  if  he  felt  any  of 
them,  and  if  so,  to  telegraph  which  and  to  see  a 
doctor  at  once.  But  I  have  had  no  reply." 

"  How  anxious  you  must  be,"  said  Kate,  ear 
nestly.  "  And  Alice,  here ;  it  seems  to  me  that 
she  looks  too  quiet  and  sad  to  be  quite  well." 

"  Yes,  Alice  practises  too  much.  She  has  a 
weak  back,  I  think." 

"  Mamma,  I  am  perfectly  well,"  said  Alice. 

"  1  know  you  think  so,  dear,  but  your  eyes  look 
heavy.  Oh,  Alice  is  far  from  well.  We  are  none 
of  us  strong." 

"  Indeed,  Mrs.  Copeland,  I  can  see  that  you  are 
not.  If  asked  my  opinion,  I  should  be  obliged  to 
admit  that  you  enjoyed  poor  health." 

Alice  regarded  Kate  gravely.  She  never  coun 
tenanced  a  word  either  in  fun  or  in  earnest  which 
held  her  mother  up  to  ridicule.  But  Miss  Vande- 
voort  apparently  saw  nothing  amusing  in  what  she 
had  said,  and  Mrs.  Copeland  was  Scotch. 

Kate  immediately  repented  her  impertinent  little 
speech,  which  nobody  except  Colonel  Overshine 
had  recognized.  She  turned  away  from  the  spec 
tacle  of  his  red  face,  and  said  to  the  judge  : 


COUNTER-IRRITANTS  III 

"  It  was  beautiful  of  you,  Judge  Copeland,  to 
make  such  a  noble  gift  to  Stockbridge  as  that  fine 
Public  Library.  Mollie  and  I  have  been  all  over  it 
to-day,  and  although  I  tried  with  all  the  ingenuity 
at  my  command,  I  could  find  not  the  slightest  flaw 
in  it." 

"And  would  you  have  been  so  happy  to  find  it 
imperfect,  Miss  Vandevoort  ?"  said  Mrs.  Copeland, 
in  a  colorless  voice,  which  sent  little  shivers  of 
aversion  shuddering  all  the  way  to  Kate's  finger 
tips. 

Judge  Copeland  smiled  at  her  benignantly,  and 
Mrs.  Overshine  hastened  to  say  : 

"  Kate  was  so  enthusiastic  over  it  that  I  could 
hardly  drag  her  away.  She  always  acts  as  if  books 
were  human  and  understood  her  when  she  tells 
each  one  why  she  loves  it.  We  had  the  children 
with  us,  and  that  very  thing  showed  the  difference  be 
tween  them.  Frances  clung  to  Kate's  hand,  shriek 
ing  in  delight  at  Kate's  fantastic  speeches  to  her  pet 
books,  speeches  which  Frances  did  not  entirely  com 
prehend,  but  she  caught  at  the  meaning  sufficiently 
to  grasp  the  fun  of  the  situation.  But  Peggy,  togeth 
er  with  two  or  three  old  ladies  standing  near — Mrs. 
Troutman  and  Mrs.  Frazer,  Chris  —  looked  at  her 
as  if  they  thought  her  simply  a  harmless  lunatic." 

"  Oh,  is  Mrs.  Frazer  well  enough  to  be  out  ?" 
said  Mrs.  Copeland.  "I  heard  that  this  new  treat- 


112  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

ment  was  helping  her.  She  has  had  nervous  prostra 
tion  for  fourteen  years,  and  her  mother  died  of 
heart  disease.  There  is  consumption  in  the  family, 
too.  It  is  a  marvel  to  me  that  she  is  alive  to-day. 
I  think  she  shows  a  wonderful  vitality." 

"  Yes,  she  was  out  to-day,  and  looking  quite  well 
for  her,"  answered  Mrs.  Overshine. 

"  I  notice  that  she  always  gets  well  enough  to  be 
out  when  there  is  anything  going  on,"  observed 
Colonel  Overshine,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "  She 
hadn't  seen  the  new  Library,  so  she  partially  re 
covered  again." 

Mrs.  Overshine  cleared  her  throat  at  him  as  a 
warning. 

"  Her  wonderful  vitality  evidences  itself  in  quite 
marvellous  partial  recoveries,  Kate,"  he  continued, 
disregarding  his  wife's  signals  of  distress,  which 
nevertheless  he  saw  perfectly. 

Kate  raised  her  lace  handkerchief  to  her  lips, 
and  felt,  rather  than  saw,  the  sudden  stiffening  of 
the  backbone  of  her  hostess. 

Mrs.  Overshine  shook  her  head  imploringly  at  her 
husband. 

"  She  will  go  to  bed  again  to-morrow,"  pursued 
Colonel  Overshine,  ruthlessly,  "until  another  small 
excitement  occurs.  Then  she  will  be  '  able  to  be 
out '  once  more." 

"  She  is  perfectly  honest  in  her  illness,  Colonel 


COUNTER-IRRITANTS  113 

Overshine,"  said  Mrs.  Copeland,  coldly.  "  There  is  a 
great  deal  of  suffering  in  Stockbridge.  I  wanted  the 
judge  to  build  a  hospital  instead  of  a  library,  but 
he  had  his  own  way  about  it,  as  usual." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  wife,  there  was  no  controversy 
about  it.  Pray  assure  our  friends  of  that." 

"  No,  because  I  gave  up  my  way  at  once.  I 
always  do." 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  were  quite  pleased  with  the 
idea  of  the  library,"  said  the  judge,  with  a  note  of 
anxiety  in  his  voice. 

It  seems  as  if  some  men  never  would  see  the 
justice  of  the  way  a  woman  who  has  been  affronted 
by  somebody  else  takes  it  out  on  her  husband,  or 
whoever  happens  to  be  handy. 

"You  know  perfectly  well  that  I  should  have 
preferred  a  hospital." 

"  I  suppose,  dear  Mrs.  Copeland,"  put  in  Colonel 
Overshine,  repenting  too  late  for  the  turn  he  had 
given  the  conversation,  "  that  the  judge  thought 
Stockbridge  was  more  in  need  of  encouragement 
along  the  line  of  the  library.  In  this  town  sickness 
reaches  perfection  through  its  own  impetus." 

Mrs.  Copeland  drew  back  her  chin  in  silent  dis 
pleasure.  Mrs.  Overshine  mentally  washed  her 
hands  of  her  husband,  who  then  looked  at  his  ally, 
Kate,  for  the  approval  which  the  honest  gentleman 
really  expected  to  follow  this  well-meant  jocularity. 


114  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

But  Kate,  in  response  to  a  telegram  from  Mollie, 
had  turned  her  back  on  him.  They  meant  to  make 
him  feel  his  disgrace. 

When  dinner  was  announced,  Elsie  refused  to 
move,  so  after  politely  hanging  back  and  wondering 
what  was  going  to  happen  next,  all  except  Mrs. 
Copeland  proceeded  to  the  dining-room,  where 
presently  Mrs.  Copeland  appeared,  with  Elsie  hiding 
her  face  in  her  mother's  skirts  and  half  walking  on 
her  train. 

"  If  you  don't  look  at  her  or  notice  her,"  whis 
pered  Mrs.  Copeland,  "perhaps  she  will  be  all 
right." 

Accordingly  they  began  an  animated  discussion 
about  nothing  at  all,  while  Mrs.  Copeland  coaxed 
Elsie,  who  still  hid  her  face  and  occasionally  wept. 
Judge  Copeland  watched  the  contest  thoughtfully, 
but  said  nothing.  Alice's  face  flushed  uncomforta 
bly,  but  she  never  thought  of  interfering.  Colonel 
and  Mrs.  Overshine  were  used  to  it,  but  Kate's 
fingers  fairly  twitched  to  jerk  Elsie  into  her  chair  in 
short  order,  and  have  done  with  such  nonsense. 
How  civilization  steps  in  in  such  a  crisis  !  Kate 
merely  sighed,  and  murmured,  "  Poor  child  !" 

Before  the  soup  was  removed,  however,  Elsie 
consented  to  get  into  her  chair,  provided  it  were 
changed  from  her  mother's  left  to  her  right.  Colonel 
Overshine  accordingly  offered  to  move,  and  Elsie 


COUNTER-IRRITANTS  115 

sat  in  the  vacated  chair  with  her  hair  pulled  over 
her  eyes. 

Frank  Overshine,  with  his  kind,  wide  smile  and 
genuine  simplicity,  was  told  off  to  Alice,  who  made 
spasmodic  efforts  to  entertain  him  while  she  tried 
to  listen  to  every  word  that  Kate  uttered. 

The  dinner  was  exquisitely  appointed  and  served, 
but  Elsie  cried  twice,  and  finally  Mrs.  Copeland 
took  her  from  the  table. 

"The  dear  child,"  she  murmured,  as  she  returned. 

Everybody  gurgled  something  in  reply,  and  then 
Mrs.  Overshine  said, 

"  I  hear  that  George  and  his  friend,  Mr.  Counsel- 
man,  will  soon  be  here." 

"  George  will  come  next  week,  but  as  we  ex 
pect  another  guest,  Mr.  Counselman  is  not  com 
ing." 

"Ah,  ha,"  thought  Miss  Vandervoort.  "The 
other  guest  means,  I  think,  my  friend  Senator  Cobb. 
Poor  Alice.  How  can  they  ?  How  can  they  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  Gordon  Counselman  isn't 
coming,"  she  said.  "  He  is  such  a  lovely  fellow,  and 
so  clever.  Colonel  Sheldon  told  me  that  he  had 
done  more  towards  the  suppression  of  hazing  at 
West  Point  than  any  other  cadet  who  ever  entered 
there.  He  is  such  a  strong  character  that  he  could 
not  fail  of  influencing  any  one  with  whom  he  came 
in  contact.  He  is  a  great  friend  of  George's,  Mrs. 


Il6  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Copeland.  I  am  glad  your  son  had  the  good  f.aste 
to  like  him." 

"  Kate,  was  he  the  one  I  overheard  you  telling 
Mollie  about — the  one  who  was  in  the  toils  of  poor 
Jim  Verry's  gay  widow  ?"  asked  Col.  Overshine. 

"Oh,  no  indeed.  That  was  Mr.  Pratt.  Mrs. 
Verry  paid  attention  to  Gordon  last  year — she  is 
the  boldest  thing — but  Gordon  confided  to  me,  in 
his  frank,  boyish  way,  which  gets  such  a  hold  on  my 
heartstrings,  that  he  really  thought  Mrs.  Verry  was 
hardly  as  modest  and  ladylike  as  he  liked  to  see 
women.  I  could  scarcely  keep  my  face  straight, 
for  she  had  toned  herself  down  many  shades  in 
order  to  captivate  Gordon's  well-known  taste.  I 
wonder  what  the  boy  would  have  said  of  her  if  he 
could  see  her  with  her  usual  racing  colors  on." 

"  By  Jove,  I'd  like  to  have  been  at  West  Point 
with  you,  Kate.  You  see  so  much." 

"  Well,  I  don't  go  to  sleep,  Chris,  if  you  mean 
that.  I  keep  my  eyes  open.  But,  dear  me,  there 
is  so  much  to  see." 

"  What  is  Mrs.  Verry  doing  now  ?"  asked  Colo 
nel  Overshine. 

"  Why,  she  spends  most  of  her  time  "hating  me, 
because,  for  some  unaccountable  reason,  she  thinks 
I  interfere  with  her  Senator  Cobb." 

'•'•Her  Senator  Cobb!"  repeated  Mrs.  Copeland, 
regarding  Kate  gravely,  then  looking  pointedly  at 


COUNTER-IRRITANTS  117 

the  judge  and  then  at  Alice,  as  if  to  say  "  How  do 
you  explain  that  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Kate,  with  what  Alice 
recognized  as  her  innocent  look.  "  Hers,  dear 
Mrs.  Copeland.  Not  mine,  nor  yours,  nor  anybody's 
except  Mrs.  Verry's — so  she  thinks.  I  don't  know 
why  she  should  be  jealous  of  me.  To  be  sure, 
he  sent  me  flowers  once — Alice,  you  remember — 
but,  if  she  only  knew  it,  she  need  not  dread  me." 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  him?  He  must 
be  queer  if  you  won't  have  anything  to  do  with  him." 

"  Now,  Cousin  Mollie,  isn't  he  unkind  to  me  ? 
Why,  Chris,  all  that's  the  matter  with  him  only  adds 
to  his  dignity.  It  is  his  age.  Senator  Cobb  is 
mediaeval,  and  I  don't  go  in  for  the  antique." 

"  Gray  hairs  are  honorable,  Miss  Vandevoort," 
said  Mrs.  Copeland,  who  labored  under  the  delusion 
that  it  was  proper  to  reprove  a  guest  under  her  roof 
for  anything  she  saw  amiss  in  her. 

Like  many  other  good  women,  with  excellent 
Stockbridge  intentions  and  high  ideals  in  tatting, 
Mrs.  Copeland  was  her  brother's  keeper  to  such  a 
rigorous  extent  that  her  spiritual  brother  often 
longed  to  go  from  her  presence  straight  to  the 
broad  way  which  leadeth  to  destruction,  just  for  a 
relish.  Not  only  did  she  look  after  her  son  and  her 
daughter  and  her  man  servant  and  her  maid  ser 
vant  and  her  ox  and  her  ass,  but  she  also  found 


Il8  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF   THINGS 

time  to  attend  to  the  moral  well-being  of  every 
other  ox  and  ass  in  all  Stockbridge. 

"Yes,  but,  dear  Mrs.  Copeland,"  said  Kate, 
sweetly,  "  his  are  not  gray.  If  they  were,  and  there 
were  more  of  them,  they  might  inspire  your  respect. 
But  his  hair  is  so  thin,  and  he  wears  it  long,  so  that 
a  strong  draught  lifts  it  now  and  then  and  exhibits 
its  thinness  cruelly.  He  is  lean,  too,  and  he  wears 
side-whiskers  (I  might  forgive  the  first,  but  not  the 
second),  and  they  are  not  all  the  same  length  or 
the  same  color,  so  that  he  reminds  you  of  a  piece 
of  moth-eaten  fur.  He  is  a  pale,  straw-colored  man 
all  through.  If  he  were  a  horse,  you  would  call  him 
a  clay-bank. 

"  And  furthermore,  dear  Mrs.  Copeland,  if  you 
ever  happen  to  meet  him,  for  my  sake,  notice  his 
peculiar  smile;  and  I  know  why  it  is  so.  He  has  the 
expansive  smile  of  a  man  when  he  first  wears  false 
teeth  after  having  had  much  trouble  with  his  old 
ones.  He  used  to  have  to  hold  his  upper  lip  clown 
when  he  laughed,  but  it  is  such  a  relief  to  him  to 
feel  now  that  he  can  smile,  grin,  even  roar,  if  he 
chooses,  that  in  an  excess  of  ease  and  relief  he 
relaxes  his  vigilance  to  the  extent  of  showing  where 
his  teeth  join,  and  sometimes,  if  the  jest  is  an  ex 
cellent  one,  even  giving  a  good  idea  of  the  plate 
itself.  Of  course  there  is  no  harm  in  this,"  added 
Miss  Vandevoort,  genially,  looking  around  to  include 


COUNTER-IRRITANTS  I  19 

everybody,  "  only  it  is  a  little  trying  on  the  person 
opposite.  If  he  were  wretchedly  poor,  he  would  be  a 
pathetic  figure,  and  you  would  want  to  send  him  a 
red  flannel  nightcap  for  his  poor  old  head,  and  a 
warm  wadded  dressing-gown  for  his  poor  thin  legs. 
As  a  grandfather  in  a  chimney-corner  he  would  be  a 
great  success.  But  as  it  is,  he  is  so  rich  that  he  is 
simply  nauseating,  aud  so  abundantly  satisfied  with 
himself  and  so  complacent  that  his  smiles  are  an 
irritation  and  his  whiskers  an  insult." 

Alice's  radiant  face  was  a  reward  which  even  the 
grim  expression  on  Mrs.  Copeland's  failed  to  spoil. 
Kate  was  sure,  from  the  uneasy  manner  in  which 
the  judge  watched  his  wife  and  Alice,  during  her 
wicked  speech,  that  affairs  had  come  to  a  crisis 
with  Senator  Cobb,  and  that  poor  Gordon's  chances 
looked  dubious  indeed. 

When  she  got  home  that  night  she'shook  her  fist 
at  herself  in  the  glass. 

"  I  hate  you,  Kate  Vandevoort,  when  you  ridicule 
a  man's  physical  imperfections.  You  think  your 
self  so  clever.  Why  couldn't  you  have  thought  up 
a  better  way  to  help  that  poor  girl  than  so  to 
degrade  yourself  in  your  own  sight.  Oh,  poor 
Kate !  You  do  try  so  hard  to  be  good,  but  it  is 
such  desperately  weary  work,  and  there  is  nothing, 
absolutely  nothing,  in  all  this  beautiful  world  for 
you  to  look  forward  to,  except  to  be  of  use  to  those 


120  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OiC    THINGS 

who  are  weaker  than  you.  No  love,  no  home,  no 
fireside  of  your  own.  Just  always  to  be  an  on-looker 
at  the  feast  of  others  ;  to  feel  the  warmth  of  others' 
fires  and  to  go  shivering  yourself.  Oh,  the  pity  of  it ! 
The  horrible  pity  of  life!  Can  I  see  Alice  wreck 
hers  as  mine  has  been  wrecked  ?  See  her  eat  her 
heart  out  in  the  utter  hopelessness  of  her  just  meed 
of  joy?  No,  no" — her  voice  sank  to  a  whisper — 
"no  matter  how  hard  it  is,  I  must  go  on  with  it — as 
he  would  have  had  me." 


IX 


DULL  people,  or  those  who  have  only  stupid 
children,  may  well  be  excused  for  declaring  that 
the  bewildering  precocity  of  the  John  Vandevoort 
children  was  unnatural  and  wellnigh  impossible. 
Kate  herself,  although  an  eye  and  ear  witness  of  it, 
often  went  away  from  them  with  an  uncanny  sense 
of  the  supernatural.  Their  sense  of  humor  was  so 
adult,  their  cynicism  so  unsteadying.  It  can  only 
be  accounted  for  in  the  facts  that  they  had  been 
parties  from  their  babyhood  to  the  marital  unhap- 
piness  of  their  father  and  mother,  and  the  constant 
companions  of  clever  but  unwise  grown  people,  who 
openly  discussed  social  problems  before  them  in  a 
manner  which  could  not  fail  of  impressing  the  dull 
est  intellects.  Falling  as  it  did  upon  snapping 
little  brains,  alert  to  hear  and  learn,  it  turned  the 
Vandevoort  children  into  amateur  philosophers, 
whose  sayings  were  a  real  terror  to  those  who  held 
their  precious  little  souls  dear. 


122  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

That  they  adored  their  aunt  Kate  it  is  needless 
to  say.  She  was  just  picturesque  enough  to  appeal 
to  their  quick  imaginations,  and  in  return  she  made 
wild  efforts  to  understand  them.  She  succeeded 
to  the  extent  that  they  confided  in  her  in  prefer 
ence  to  their  mother,  and  often  said  if  Aunt  Kate 
could  only  have  been  their  mother,  their  parents 
would  have  been  perfect. 

The  unhappy  example  of  the  supreme  selfishness 
of  their  mother,  whose  beauty  they  admired,  but 
for  whom  they  had  very  little  affection,  drove  Kate 
to  seek  out  every  possible  opportunity  to  let  them, 
in  the  same  manner,  share  the  lovelier  traits  of 
humanity.  Otherwise  she  dared  not  face  their 
future.  The  poor  little  things,  with  all  that  culture 
and  wealth  and  travel  could  give,  had  been  given 
no  chance  to  learn  the  weightier  matters  of  the 
law,  justice,  mercy,  and  truth. 

Colonel  Overshine  was  their  obedient  slave  from 
the  moment  they  entered  his  house.  He  vowed 
that  Frances  was  more  entertaining  than  all  the 
grown-up  people  in  Stockbridge  put  together,  and 
that  round-eyed  Peggy  could  wheedle  the  nose  off 
his  face,  if  she  set  her  mind  to  do  it.  Kate  arranged 
their  studies  for  them.  They  already  chattered  in 
French  and  German  as  fluently  as  she  herself,  so 
she  gave  them  drawing  and  music,  on  condition 
that  they  should  learn  spelling  and  arithmetic. 


THE    CHILD    PROBLEM  123 

Their  manners  in  public  would  have  put  Beau 
Brummell  to  the  blush,  but  in  private  Frances  was 
a  little  demon,  and  Peggy  would  fight  as  quietly 
but  as  long  as  a  bull-dog.  Frances  flew  into  a  pas 
sion  a  dozen  times  a  day,  but  was  ready  to  kiss  and 
apologize  in  two  minutes.  Peggy  would  stand  al 
most  anything,  but  when  once  her  anger  against 
her  sister  began  to  burn  with  a  slow  white  heat,  she 
had  to  be  peeled  off  of  Frances  like  a  plaster.  She 
stuck  to  her  in  absolute  silence,  no  matter  what  her 
own  injuries,  with  never  a  sound  except  Frances's 
yells  and  screams.  Only  Kate  could  silence  them. 
They  obeyed  her  because  they  adored  yet  feared 
her.  They  walked  over  their  father's  authority  be 
cause  they  knew  that  they  could. 

They  had  been  in  Stockbridge  about  two  months 
when  Miss  Vandevoort  came  down  from  New  York 
to  pay  this  promised  visit  to  Cousin  Mollie  Over- 
shine.  She  had  been  down  several  times  during 
July,  stopping  over  for  a  day  in  flitting  from  moun 
tains  to  sea-shore  ;  but  this  time  her  stay  was  to  be 
longer,  and  the  children  cast  themselves  upon  her 
in  rapturous  delight. 

Kate  sympathized  with  Frances  the  most,  because 
everybody  preferred  stupid  little  Peggy's  sweetness 
to  her  older  sister's  too  clever  intelligence. 

Nobody  could  take  any  comfort  with  as  sharp  a 
child  as  Frances,  and  people  made  no  secret  of 


124  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

their  preference  for  the  soothing  companionship  of 
her  fat  little  sister.  Most  people  prefer  a  pin 
cushion  to  an  emery — for  daily  use. 

One  morning  as  Kate  came  out  of  the  house 
with  a  telegram  in  her  hand,  she  found  Frances  on 
the  veranda  with  her  spelling-book. 

"  What  are  you  doing,  lamb  ?" 

"Learning  to  spell,  Aunt  Kate,  so  that  I  can 
write  letters  to  you  that  you  won't  be  ashamed  of." 

"  How  nice  that  will  be,  and  how  proud  I  shall 
be  of  them.  But  do  you  want  to  stop  now  and  give 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure  to  somebody  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  to  well  enough,  if  I  were  not 
doing  something  more  important." 

"Is  there  anything  more  important  than  delib 
erately  to  put  a  pleasure  into  somebody's  life?" 

"  Oh,  I  think  so.  It  is  more  important  to  speak 
French.  It  is  more  important  to  play  on  the  piano. 
It  is  more  important  to  sing  well,  so  that  when  I 
enter  society  I  can  be  as  much  admired  and  have 
as  many  lovers  as  you  have." 

"  Who  told  you  anything  about  my  lovers  ?"  asked 
Kate,  sternly. 

"  Mamma.  She  often  talked  to  us  about  them. 
She  said  you  were  an  awful  fool  not  to  marry  Sir 
James  Whitehall.  She  said  she  thought  your  suc 
cess  had  turned  your  head,  because  you  kept  re 
fusing  such  fine  offers,  and  that  you  would  pick 


THE   CHILD   PROBLEM  125 

up  a  crooked  stick  after  all.  I  asked  her  what  a 
crooked  stick  meant,  and  she  said  papa  was  one. 
I  told  her  I  hoped  you  would  marry  a  crooked  stick 
then,  and  she  slapped  me." 

"Good  heavens!"  said  Kate,  sitting  down  in  a 
big  wicker  rocking-chair  and  drawing  Frances  into 
her  lap,  regardless  of  her  fresh  muslin  dress  that 
the  child  crushed. 

"I  am  afraid  I'll  spoil  your  dress  if  I  lean  my 
head  against  your  shoulder,"  said  Frances. 

"  Never  mind  if  you  do.  I  like  the  feel  of  your 
little  head,  just  to  make  sure  that  you  are  a  little 
child,  and  not  a  misshapen,  grown-up,  warped  soul 
with  a  dwarf's  body.  Poor  little  dear  !  You've 
never  had  half  a  chance.  I  ought  not  to  be  angry 
with  you,  my  lamb ;  but  it  nearly  kills  me  to  hear 
you  talk  in  that  manner." 

"  Oh,  Auntie  Kate,  don't  look  that  way !  I  won't 
speak  all  day.  I'll  do  anything  for  you,  if  you  will 
just  tell  me.  /didn't  know  I  was  saying  anything 
to  make  you  sorry.  Perhaps  you  are  sorry  because 
Mamma  slapped  me  ?  Pooh  !  that  wasn't  anything. 
She  slapped  us  whenever  anything  went  wrong, 
whether  we  did  it  or  not.  But  the  time  she  slapped 
and  shook  us  till  our  heads  most  fell  off — she's 
awful  strong — was  when  she  used  to  get  hysterics 
and  scream,  and  Peggy  and  I  would  screech  and 
yell  just  like  her,  to  see  who  could  yell  the  loudest. 


126  THE   UNDER   SIDE    OF   THINGS 

My,  but  she  gave  it  to  us  then  !  Horter.se  pretended 
to  help  her,  but  she  got  us  away  from  her  and 
locked  us  in  the  nursery  till  Mamma  cooled  down. 
Then  she  let  us  out,  and  we  went  to  drive  in  the 
victoria,  and  lots  of  people  looked  at  us  and  said, 
'  What  lovely  children  !'  just  as  if  they  wished 
theirs  were  like  us.  I  felt  like  saying,  'Well,  you 
wouldn't,  if  you  knew  the  inside  of  us.'  " 

Kate  only  went  on  rocking  her  in  silence.  For 
once  she  had  nothing  to  say. 

"  I  wish  you  were  my  mother,"  said  Frances, 
suddenly.  "  Lieber  Katechen  !  You  would  make 
an  awfully  nice  mother.  You  know  how  to  treat 
children.  Mamma  doesn't.  Mamma  ought  to  have 
stayed  a  bachelor.  What  are  you  laughing  at  ? 
Isn't  that  the  right  word  ?  I  told  that  to  Cousin 
Chris,  and  he  laughed  so,  he  most  shook  me  off  his 
lap.  Cousin  Mollie  said  I  meant  '  spinster,'  but 
Cousin  Chris  said,  '  No,  leave  it  bachelor.  That 
word  describes  Emily  Vandevoort  to  aT.'  Mamma 
does  not  approve  of  marriage  for  anybody.  When 
she  meets  a  young  lady  in  society,  she  takes  her 
hand,  like  this,  and  she  says,  '  Miss  Gilbert,  allow 
me  to  congratulate  you  that  it  is  not  as  Mrs.  Some 
body  that  I  must  address  you.'  " 

"  Good  heavens !"  cried  Kate,  setting  Frances 
up  in  her  lap  and  holding  her  two  arms  down 
tightly,  "  what  an  awful  thing  to  hear  the  cynicism 


THE   CHILD    PROBLEM  127 

of  the  world  brought  home  by  such  baby  lips  as 
yours  !  Stop  thinking  about  such  things.  Come, 
don't  you  want  to  go  with  me  to  see  Miss  Alice 
Copeland?  I  have  a  telegram  in  my  hand  which 
will  make  her  eyes  shine  so  that  you  could  see 
them  in  the  dark." 

"  Like  a  cat  under  the  bed,"  said  Frances,  who 
was  nothing  if  not  a  believer  in  applied  science. 

u  Well,  that  is  hardly  as  poetical  as  to  liken  them 
to  stars  in  heaven,  but  it  does  very  well,  and  cer 
tainly  no  one  could  misunderstand  you." 

Frances  laughed  shrilly. 

"You  are  making  fun,"  she  declared.  "I  love 
to  hear  people  make  fun.  Nobody  ever  does  it  at 
our  house  any  more.  But  whenever  I  go  out,  I 
always  laugh  every  chance  I  get." 

She  darted  away  to  get  ready,  and  came  back 
swinging  her  hat  by  one  of  the  ribbons. 

"  Don't  make  me  put  it  on,"  she  begged  a<  they 
started.  "I  always  have  to  be  so  prim  when  I 
walk  in  New  York  with  Hortense,  with  her  eternal 
'  Prenez-garde,  ma  chere,'  and  her  always  clawing 
our  skirts  down  and  our  hair  back.  That's  why  I 
just  love  Stockbridge.  It  is  so  still,  and  the  trees 
rustle  so,  and  the  grass  is  so  soft  and  green,  and 
I  haven't  seen  a  single  sign  '  Keep  off  the  grass ' 
since  we  have  been  here.  In  India  once  a  man 
asked  Papa  what  our  national  motto  was,  and  he 


128  THE   UNDER   SIDE   OF    THINGS 

said  the  only  national  motto  that  we  enforced  was 
4  Keep  off  the  grass,'  and  everybody  laughed  except 
the  Englishman  who  asked  him.  He  believed  it, 
Papa  said." 

"  Your  father  also  told  a  man  in  London  that  our 
national  dish  was  pie." 

"  Pie  ?  And  he  believed  it,  didn't  he  ?  That's 
what  Papa  said  is  the  funny  part." 

"Yes,  he  believed  it." 

"What  makes  people  fool  Englishmen  so?" 

4'  Oh,  because  they  never  know  anything  about 
America.  It's  so  lovely  to  see  what  impossible 
statements  they  will  believe." 

"  Why  don't  they  know  about  America  ?" 

44  Because  they  don't  want  to.  I  suppose  they 
like  to  be  provincial." 

41  Provincial  ?     What's  provincial  ?" 

"  Let  me  see.  Why,  provincial  means  liking 
your  own  little  hole  in  the  world  so  much  that  you 
never  stick  your  head  outside  of  it  to  see  if  there 
is  anything  else." 

"  Don't  English  people  know  about  anything 
but  England  ?" 

"Two  or  three  of  them  do." 

"Well,  we  know  about  them." 

"Oh  yes;  that's  fashionable." 

"  But  isn't  it  fashionable  for  them  to  know  about 
us  ?" 


THE   CHILD  PROBLEM  129 

"  No,  it  is  fashionable  for  them  not  to  know 
about  us." 

"Is  that  what  makes  Englishmen  so  funny?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Kate,  laughing.  "  That  is  exactly 
what  makes  Englishmen  so  funny." 

"  Just  look  at  this  lovely  grass,"  sighed  the  child, 
running  her  eyes  hungrily  over  the  meadows  and 
lawns. 

"  If  you  love  grass  so  much,  you  should  see  the 
prairies  out  West,"  said  Kate. 

"  Out  West  ?"  repeated  Frances.  "  I  don't  think 
I  should  care  to  go  out  West.  Mamma  says  that 
New  York  is  all  of  America  that  I  need  to  see." 

"Take  care,  little  Miss  Provincial!  Won't  you 
stick  your  head  out  of  your  little  hole  and  take  a 
look  at  the  beautiful  world  beyond  ?  Or  do  you  want 
to  be  as  funny  as  an  Englishman  ?" 

"  Can  you  be  provincial  in  America  ?"  asked 
Frances,  opening  her  eyes. 

"  Certainly.  The  worst  kind  of  provincialism  is 
the  American,  because  that  is  all  put  on,  and  the 
English  is  real.  They  were  born  that  way." 

"  Oh,  I  hate  anybody  who  '  puts  on.'  " 

"  Then  don't  turn  up  that  nose  of  yours  at  Amer 
ica,  because  you  haven't  seen  any  of  it  yet." 

"  Stockbridge  is  nice,"  said  Frances.  "  I  like  it 
because  I  can  play  with  the  coachman's  children. 
Mamma  never  lets  me  in  New  York.  But  I  don't 

9 


130  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

see  why.  Sometimes  I  want  to  play  with  them 
worse  than  anything  else  in  the  world.  My  geog 
raphy  says  that  people  don't  all  belong  to  the  same 
race.  The  Chinese  are  Mongolians,  and  we  are 
Caucasians.  Now,  the  coachman's  children  belong 
to  the  barn  race,  and  I  belong  to  the  house  race. 
That's  all  the  difference.  And  sometimes  I  think 
the  barn  race  has  the  best  time." 

Kate  was  immensely  amused,  and  yet  a  little  ter 
rified.  She  found  herself  telling  the  child  things  as 
she  would  to  a  grown  person.  It  was  impossible  not 
to  respect  such  intelligence,  no  matter  how  child 
ish  the  body.  But  then  Kate  Vandevoort  -  as  so 
queer.  She  actually  respected  childhood,  and  saw 
wonderful  possibilities  of  individualism  in  little 
souls  which  other  people,  older  and  wiser  than  she, 
were  sorting  into  batches  and  labelling  alike.  She 
wondered  what  kind  of  a  woman  Frances  would 
make.  Either  a  very  bad  one  or  a  very  good  one. 
By  her  daily  life  she  would  either  teach  the  way 
upward  or  set  a  fearful  example  of  what  to  avoid. 
But,  at  any  rate,  interesting  —  interesting!  And 
that  is  half  the  battle.  Interesting  to  old  and 
young,  to  high  and  low  alike.  Even  as  a  child, 
Kate  felt  that  Frances  had  the  gift  of  feeling  the 
heart  of  humanity. 

"There   is   where    Miss    Copeland   lives,"  said 
Kate. 


THE   CHILD    PROBLEM  13! 

"Is  it?  That  great  house  on  the  terrace,  with 
white  pillars  like  the  Parthenon  ?" 

Kate  looked  down  at  her,  seized  with  a  physical 
weakness.  She  doubted  if  she  herself  should  have 
associated  Corinthian  columns  with  anything  more 
elevated  than  the  White  House. 

"  What  do  you  remember  about  the  Parthenon, 
you  baby  ?" 

"  Why,  didn't  I  ever  tell  you  ?  Mamma  and  Papa 
had  an  awful  quarrel  there.  Papa  wanted  to  go  to 
see  it  again  by  moonlight,  but  she  wouldn't.  She 
said  once  was  enough,  and  she  called  him  an  awful 
fool  for  wanting  to  go.  So  he  came  into  our  room 
with  his  lips  set  together  like  this,  and  had  Hor- 
tense  take  me  up  and  dress  me;  and  he  carried  me 
there  and  told  me  to  look  at  it  and  remember  it. 
And  I  did.  And  it  was  the  most  beautiful  thing  I 
ever  saw  in  all  my  life,  but  so  lonesome.  And  he 
kissed  me  most  a  hundred  times  when  I  s?id  so, 
and  he  said  I  belonged  to  him.  But  he  left  a  tear 
on  my  cheek,  and  it  scared  me  so  I've  never  for 
gotten  it." 

She  paused  at  the  gate. 

"  There  are  Peggy  and  Hortense  !"  she  declared. 
'•'  Don't  call  them  over.  Leave  them,  and  let's  go 
in  alone." 

"  Come,  come,  none  of  that,  Miss  Piggy  Selfish 
ness.  Suppose  you  go  home  and  leave  me  to  go 


132  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

in  alone.  Haven't  we  come  to  be  generous  with 
Miss  Copeland  about  the  telegram  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  it's  so  much  easier  to  be  generous  with 
other  people  than  with  your  sister." 

"  Then  all  the  more  credit  to  you  when  you  share 
with  Peggy.  It  is  only  people  like  you  and  me, 
who  would  much  rather  be  bad,  who  deserve  any 
credit  for  being  good." 

"You  are  good  naturally,  lieber  Katechen." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  There  are  times  when  I  want 
to  tear  things  wide  open,  and  scream,  -r.d  bn,ak 
things,  just  the  way  you  do." 

"  But  you  never  do  //,"  said  Frances,  aghast  at  the 
picture. 

"  Certainly  not.  I  won't  allow  myself  to.  I 
always  think  how  silly  it  must  look  to  good  people 
who  never  lose  their  temper." 

Frances  colored. 

"  And  to  the  angels,"  she  said,  softly. 

Kate  squeezed  her  hand  with  sudden  feeling. 

"  Shall  we  be  bad  now,  and  not  let  Peggy  come, 
or  shall  we  be  good  ?" 

"  Will  you  do  just  as  I  say  ?"  asked  Frances, 
curiously. 

"  Yes ;  but  remember,  if  you  lead  me  into  tempta 
tion,  it  will  be  a  double  sin  for  you." 

"  But  if  I  say  to  send  Peggy  back  home,  will  you 
do  it,  and  take  me  in  alone  ?"  she  insisted. 


THE   CHILD   PROBLEM  133 

"Yes." 

"Then  call  Peggy.  Or,  no,  let  me  call  her. 
Allons,  Peggy !  Hortense  !  Venez  ici.  Venez 
avec  nous.  Nous  aliens  faire  une  visite  a  Made 
moiselle  Copeland.  Voudriez-vous  venir?" 

"  Oh,  ja,  ja !"  cried  Peggy,  who  was  so  Dutch, 
with  her  fat  legs  and  Gretchen  braids,  that  she 
spoke  her  German  from  preference. 

"  Parlez  franc.ais,  mademoiselle,"  said  Hortense, 
angrily,  with  a  sharp  pull  at  the  child's  hand. 

"  Hortense,"  said  Miss  Vandevoort,  quietly. 

"  Je  vous  demande  pardon,  mademoiselle." 

"  Parlez  avec  plus  de  douceur,  je  vous  prie. 
Laissez  les  enfants  parler  allemand  quand  ils  veu- 
lent." 

"Je  vous  demande  pardon,  mademoiselle,  mais 
je  deteste  rallemand." 

"  Oui,  je  le  sais,  mais  je  le  veux." 

"  C'est  assez,  mademoiselle,"  said  Hortense,  with 
a  smile. 

Servants  always  adored  Kate,  and  Hortense 
had  been  such  a  faithful  creature  and  so  discreet 
through  all  the  family  trouble  that  Kate  was  par 
ticularly  fond  of  her.  Her  chief  fault  was  that  she 
waged  a  perpetual  war  with  the  German  governess. 

When  Frances  was  good,  she  was  very,  very 
good,  and  also,  like  the  little  girl  with  the  immortal 
curl  in  the  middle  of  her  immortal  forehead,  "when 


134  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

she  was  bad,  she  was  horrid."  However,  it  was  al 
most  worth  a  tantrum  to  put  her  into  the  celestial 
state  of  mind  which  always  followed  an  outburst, 
and  to  which  she  now  had  attained  through  her 
forbearance  towards  Peggy,  whose  fat  legs  were 
toiling  up  the  steps  of  the  terrace  just  ahead  of 
her.  Peggy  reached  the  top  with  scarlet  cheeks 
and  the  breath  almost  pumped  from  her  short 
body.  But  the  little,  thin,  nervous  face  of  Frances 
was  ethereally  beautiful.  Her  coal-black  curls, 
loose  almost  to  straightness,  hung  around  her  pale 
cheeks  like  a  frame,  and  her  great  velvet  eyes  never 
left  Kate's  face,  as  she  humbly  clung  to  her  hand, 
like  a  tamed  spirit  of  the  air. 

Never  was  there  anything  prettier  or  more  lady 
like  than  the  way  in  which  she  greeted  Mrs.  Cope- 
land,  whom  they  found  upon  the  terrace,  going  up 
to  her  to  be  presented  with  the  quiet  self-posses 
sion  of  a  woman  of  the  world.  She  looked  with 
amazement  upon  Elsie,  who  refused  to  look  up  or 
speak  to  Miss  Vandevoort,  and  who,  when  she 
lifted  her  head  from  her  mother's  lap,  only  stared 
at  Peggy  and  Frances  in  shy,  stubborn  silence. 

Frances  instinctively  held  aloof  from  Mrs.  Cope- 
land,  recognizing  the  coldness  in  her  face,  although 
much  more  interested  in  her  than  Elsie.  But,  as 
usual,  Peggy,  the  little  round  diplomat,  who  would 
not  have  given  a  crumb  where  Frances  would  have 


THE    CHILD    PROBLEM  135 

given  her  last  crust  or  the  whole  loaf,  engagingly 
climbed  upon  Mrs.  Copeland's  black  satin  knee, 
and  artfully  coiled  herself  in  the  iron  receptacle 
which  served  that  austere  woman  for  a  heart. 

Mrs.  Copeland  was  graciously  pleased  to  invite 
the  children  to  lunch  with  Elsie.  Peggy  accepted 
joyfully,  scrambling  down  from  Mrs.  Copeland's 
lap  and  trotting  up  to  the  house  without  a  back 
ward  glance.  Frances,  who  much  preferred  the 
society  of  grown  people,  hung  back  until  Kate  sent 
her  after  the  rest. 

Kate  afterwards  remembered  the  beautiful  ex 
pression  of  her  face,  and  she  knew  what  a  genius 
for  irritation  Mrs.  Copeland  must  possess,  in  order 
to  stir  up  the  storm  in  which  that  unhappy  luncheon 
or  dinner  ended. 


X 

ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS 

WHEN  Mrs.  Copeland  drew  from  her  pocket  her 
fancy  work,  and  settled  back  in  the  rustic  seat  where 
they  had  found  her,  Alice,  in  obedience  to  a  gesture 
from  Kate,  proposed  that  they  should  go  down  to 
the  boat-house. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Alice  ?"  said  Kate, 
when  they  were  alone. 

"Oh,  nothing.     What  makes  you  ask?" 

"Oh,  nothing." 

Kate  laughed  roguishly. 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  tell  me  ?" 

"  There's  nothing  to  tell." 

"When  is  Senator  Cobb  coming  to  propose  to 
you  ?" 

"How  did  you  know  he  was  going  to?"  asked 
Alice,  startled. 

"  I  didn't.  I  only  wanted  to  know.  Are  you  going 
to  accept  him  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.     They — " 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  137 

"  You  don't  know  !  They — !"  cried  Kate,  with 
a  shake  of  Alice's  shoulder  that  made  her  bite  her 
tongue.  "  How  dare  you  hint  at  such  a  thing  ? 
Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  love  that  awful 
old  man  ?" 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Alice,  covering  her  face  with  her 
hands. 

"  Then  has  that  precious  mother  of  yours  urged 
you  into  it  ?" 

"  Urged  ?  Urged  ?  I  never  hear  anything  else. 
She  is  going  to  make  me  !  I  don't  dare  to  refuse." 

"  You  little  coward  !" 

"Yes,  but  you  don't  know  my  mother.  You 
don't  know  her.  You  don't  know  her." 

Alice  evidently  could  not  gain  her  own  consent 
to  say  more. 

"  What  does  your  father  say  ?" 

"  He  says  for  me  to  do  as  I  will.  He  never 
even  said  that  much  before  when  anything  went 
against  mother's  wishes.  He  always  wants  me  to 
do  as  she  says." 

"Wouldn't  your  father  befriend  you  if  you  re 
fused  in  this  case  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  He  would  stand  between  us,  I 
think,  if  I  could  only  tell  him." 

"Why  don't  you  tell  him?" 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't.  It  seems  so  —  so  indeli 
cate." 


138  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  Alice  Copelancl,  I  hope  there  is  nobody  else  in 
the  world  exactly  like  you." 

"  Why,  /  think  that  is  a  sign  of  refinement,"  said 
Alice,  primly. 

"  I  know  you  do,  my  dear.  And  if  you  don't  be 
ware,  you  will  approve  of  your  own  refinement  to 
such  an  extent  that  you  will  turn  out  an  uncon 
scionable  little  prig.  You  don't  seem  to  mind 
dealing  me  a  rap  into  the  bargain,  but  I  do  not 
care  particularly,  for  it  is  only  the  result  of  Stock- 
bridge  and  Presbyterianism  and  the  pharisaic  at 
mosphere  you  breathe.  Your  bad  manners  do  not 
come  from  an  unkind  heart.  Consequently  you 
only  lack  tact.  But  for  the  sake  of  your  friend 
myself,  I  pray  Heaven  you  may  acquire  that  soon." 

"  I  have  hurt  your  feelings,"  said  Alice,  remorse 
fully. 

"  Yes,  you  have  hurt  my  feelings,  because  I  am 
only  a  publican  and  a  sinner,  and  because  I  live 
in  a  wicked  city  where  publicans  are  liked  and  ap 
proved  of,  and  where  we  seldom  get  a  rap  over  the 
nose  such  as  you  just  dealt  to  me." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry." 

"  I  don't  lay  it  up  against  you,  because  I  hard 
ly  see  how  you  could  be  anything  else  with  the 
exam  —  ahem!  —  with  such  surroundings.  Good 
heavens,  Alice!  You  ought  to  go  around  the 
world,  and  get  a  point  of  view." 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE   STEPS  139 

Alice  looked  up,  startled  by  Miss  Vandevoort's 
vehemence.  "A  point  of  view?"  she  repeated, 
doubtfully. 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  a  point  of  view  !  Is  anything  more 
maddening  than  to  go  ambling  peacefully  along  in 
life,  smiling  at  the  world  and  harming  nobody,  and 
suddenly  to  dash  your  head  against  the  stone  wall  of 
provincial  virtue,  and  lie  on  your  back  for  a  while, 
seeing  red  and  green  stars  ?  I  really  think  there  is 
an  element  of  viciousness  in  the  virtue  of  a  small 
town  which  is  worse  than  loose-slippered  liberality. 
I  think  narrowness,  whenever  and  wherever  you 
meet  it,  is  the  most  irritating  of  all  the  vices. 
Of  course,  I  am  a  woman,  and  I  can  only  talk  and 
rage  about  these  things  in  a  perfectly  ladylike  and 
refined  way ;  but  they  make  me  desperate." 

"  Do  /make  you  feel  like  that  ?"  asked  Alice. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  quite  yet,"  said  Miss  Vandevoort, 
rumpling  her  hair  with  whimsical  fretfulness.  "  But 
I  am  afraid  of  what  you  are  going  to  be.  You  have 
set  your  feet  on  the  slippery  downward  path  of 
Perfection,  and  I  only  wish  you  could  see  how 
stupidly  conceited  you  appear  to  a  pagan  outsider, 
because  you  believe  so  absolutely  that  you  are  right 
and  that  I  am  wrong.  Now  I  don't  agree  with  you. 
I  am  wrong  enough,  Heaven  knows,  only  you  are 
more  wrong  than  I.  It  is  but  a  question  of  degree. 
You  can't  see  it,  and  you  are  not  believing  me  right 


140  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

now,  because  you  are  looking  at  me  from  the  point 
of  view  of  Stockbridge,  Potts  County,  Pennsylvania. 
You  are  a  different  creature  here  froiTi  ^he  girl  I 
knew  at  West  Point.  Do  you  remember  the  night 
of  the  hop?" 

Alice  turned  her  head  away  and  made  no  reply 
at  first.  They  were  sitting  at  the  foot  of  the  ter 
race,  on  the  steps  leading  up  from  the  boat-house. 
The  summer  had  been  very  hot  and  dry  so  far,  and 
the  Delaware  was  sinking  rapidly.  Kate  sat  watch 
ing  the  shadows  on  the  river,  and  wondering  how 
to  broach  the  subject  of  the  telegram,  when  she  was 
startled  by  Alice's  voice,  with  a  little  ring  of  hard 
ness  in  it,  saying, 

"After  all,  why  not  —  m-  marry  him?  I  don't 
want  to  live  in  Stockbridge  forever  and  be  narrow 
and  provincial." 

"  Well,  dear  me,  is  there  no  one  else  except  Sena 
tor  Cobb  ?  What  has  become  of  all  the  other  men 
in  the  world  since  we  have  been  sitting  here? 
Has  a  pestilence  swept  them  from  the  face  of  the 
earth  ?" 

"  There  is  no  one  else  who  cares  for  me,"  said 
Alice,  bitterly. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?" 

"  Mother  says  so." 

"Urn.     Does  she?" 

"  Yes,  she  does.     And  I  know  that  it  is  true." 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE   STEPS  141 

"  Do  you  !     You  are  very  wise." 

If  Kate  expected  to  sting  Alice  by  her  tone  into 
either  question  or  explanation,  she  was  disappointed, 
for  Kate  was  finally  obliged  to  say,  "  How  about 
Gordon  Counsehnan  ?" 

Alice  turned  and  faced  her  vehemently.  "  There 
is  nothing  about  him  !"  she  declared. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  Don't  you,  in  your  secret 
heart,  believe  that  he  loves  you  ?" 

Kate  was  not  sure  that  Alice  would  not  plunge 
headlong  into  the  river  at  the  open  mention  of  such 
an  indelicate  fact.  But  to  her  surprise  she  found 
that  Alice,  like  most  reticent  persons,  occasionally 
fairly  revelled  in  the  opening  up  of  a  closed  subject. 

"No,  I  don't." 

"  Why  ?" 

"  Why  ?  Because  I  have  not  had  a  letter  from 
him  for  a  month.  Why  did  he  stop  writing  ?  Why 
did  he  promise  to  come  home  with  George  and 
then  suddenly  withdraw  his  acceptance  without  any 
reason  or  any  explanation  ?" 

"  Why  ?"  repeated  Kate,  excitedly.  "  Because 
your  mother  wrote  to  him  and  withdrew  her  son's  in 
vitation  in  such  a  way  that  Gordon  could  not  explain 
even  to  George,  and  there  is  a  coolness  between 
them  now,  because  George  is  too  proud  to  ask  why, 
and  Gordon  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  '  show  a 
fellow's  mother  up  to  him  in  an  unfavorable  light.' 


142  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

And  most  of  all,  because  Mrs.  Copeland  gave  Gor 
don  to  understand  that  you  were  engaged  to  Sena 
tor  Cobb.  That  is  why  Gordon  does  not  write. 
Your  mother  intimated  that  she  wrote  in  your  be 
half  to  break  the  news  to  him." 

Alice  reached  out  for  Kate's  hand  to  steady  her 
self. 

"  My  mother  did  that  ?     My  mother  ?" 

She  kept  repeating  it,  as  if  she  could  not  take  it 
in,  and  she  looked  so  dazed  that  Kate  hurriedly 
put  the  telegram  into  her  hand. 

"  Read  that.  Mollie  has  invited  him  to  our 
house,  and  he  is  coming  to-morrow.  To-morrow, 
do  you  hear  ?" 

Alice  read  the  telegram  twice,  and  laughed  hys 
terically. 

"  And  Senator  Cobb  is  coming  to-night  and  I 
shall  be  engaged  by  to-morrow.  Don't  you  see 
that  I  can't  help  myself  ?  Don't  you  know  that 
my  mother  has  succeeded  in  everything  she  ever 
undertook  in  her  life?  Don't  you  know  that  she 
will  marry  me  to  the  senator  if  it  kills  me?  I 
didn't  know  before  how  determined  she  was.  But 
if  she  has  done  all  this,  I  might  as  well  give  up  at 
once." 

"Poor  Gordon," said  Kate,  softly. 

Alice  clutched  her  hand. 

"  Do  you  think  he  cares  ?" 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  143 

"  I  know  that  he  cares.  I  only  wish  you  had 
been  noble  enough  to  have  faith  in  him — such 
faith  as  he  would  have  had  in  you." 

Alice  shook  her  head.  "  I  am  not  noble.  I  have 
no  faith." 

"You  have  no  courage,  and  no  hope,  either,"  said 
Kate,  in  a  vexed  tone. 

Alice  looked  up  at  her  humbly. 

"I  know — I  know,"  said  Kate,  hastily.  "Per 
haps  I  shouldn't  have,  either,  in  your  place.  But 
are  you  going  to  give  up  like  that  ?  Aren't  you 
going  to  nerve  yourself  ?" 

"  What  is  the  use  ?  Don't  you  know  that  I  am 
bound  hand  and  foot?  Have  you  ever  contended 
with  my  mother  ?  Do  you  know  how  futile  it  is  ?" 

"  It  wouldn't  be  for  me  !"  cried  Kate,  wickedly. 
"  I'd  just  lore  to  pit  my  will  against  hers  !" 

"Yours!"  said  Alice.  "Why,  her  will  would 
grind  yours  to  powder.  Yours  makes  more  noise, 
but  hers  is  as  quiet  and  deadly  as — as  the  grave. 
I  should  as  soon  think  of  contending  with  Death." 

"  Well,  I  believe  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
contesting  the  field  with  Death,"  began  Kate,  bold 
ly.  Then  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and 
a  groan  burst  from  her  lips.  "  Oh,  God,  forgive  me 
for  saying  that !"  she  murmured.  "Once  I  did  con 
test  the  field  with  Death,  and  Death  won." 

"  Oh,  dear  Miss  Vandevoort,"  cried  Alice,  put- 


144  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

ting  her  arms  around  Kate,  and  forgetting  herself 
in  a  moment,  as  she  always  did  in  the  face  of  an 
other's  trouble. 

Kate  sat  up  suddenly  and  took  both  of  Alice's 
hands  in  hers,  and  looked  into  her  eyes  with  a  look 
which  went  clear  through  the  world's  ways,  uc""n, 
down  into  the  girl's  soul. 

"  Once — how  long  ago  it  seems,  measured  by 
everything  but  years ! — I  stood  just  where  you  are 
standing  now,  with  the  privilege  of  choosing  my 
life's  happiness  or  its  misery.  It  was  even  more  in 
my  power  to  choose  freely  than  it  is  in  yours. 
Alice,  if  I  did  not  love  you  I  could  not  tell  you 
this.  You  don't  know  why  I  love  you,  do  you  ? 
It  is  because  you  remind  me  of  myself.  Once  I 
was  as  single-hearted  as  you.  My  environments 
were  not  like  yours,  but  they  fettered  me  quite  as 
much,  and  in  the  writhing  of  my  spirit  to  free  my 
self  they  turned  me  into  the  complex  creature  I  am 
to-day,  with  so  much  of  good  and  ill  warring  in  my 
soul  that  sometimes  it  frightens  me  even  now,  cool- 
headed  as  I  love  to  believe  myself.  Alice,  I  was 
meant  to  be  a  true  woman.  I  feel  it,  but  I  couldn't 
help  being  influenced,  I  couldn't  help  being  drag 
ged  down.  I  couldn't  keep  my  ideals  high  and 
clean  when  every  passer-by  dashed  them  down. 
So  I  lowered  them  inch  by  inch  myself,  until  they 
were  on  a  level  with  my  eyes  and  I  no  longer  had 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  145 

to  look  up  to  see  them.  Then  they  were  not  ideals 
any  more.  They  were  my  familiars.  But  I  could 
not  bear  their  reproachful  faces.  So  I  wrapped 
them  in  sophistry  and  put  them  further  away.  I 
knew  they  were  within  reach.  I  did  not  wish  to 
destroy  them,  but  they  were  only  dim,  shadowy 
shapes,  and  I  tried  to  forget  them,  for  it  hurt  me  to 
think  of  them. 

"  I  was  not  happy  even  then,  but  I  rilled  every 
hour  so  full  that  I  could  not  think.  I  was  reckless 
in  those  days,  afraid  to  stop  and  see  where  I  was. 
Everybody  envied  me.  I  was  supposed  to  be  per 
fectly  happy.  I  said  I  was.  I  tried  to  believe  it. 
But  I  never  succeeded.  In  my  heart  I  hated  the 
ways  of  society,  and  loathed  myself  for  conforming 
to  them. 

"  Then  I  met  for  the  second  time  a  man  I  once 
had  known  and  forgotten.  From  the  moment  I 
knew  him  I  felt  how  I  must  appear  to  him — how 
shallow,  heartless,  worldly.  He  made  me  see  my 
self,  and  oh,  how  I  suffered  !  He  was  so  different 
from  the  other  men  I  knew,  and  I  was  so  proud  be 
cause  he  seemed  attracted  to  me.  He  was  a  cadet 
at  West  Point,  and  I  had  gone  up  there  with  my 
father  and  mother  to  spend  the  summer. 

"  Max  never  cared  for  other  girls,  and  I  was  flat 
tered  that  I  had  won  the  attentions  of  the  most 
difficult  man  at  West  Point.  But  it  was  only  an 


146  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

outward  victory,  for  although  he  was  always  with 
me,  yet  he  held  himself,  his  real  self,  aloof  from  me. 
I  felt  that  it  was  because  he  did  not  approve  of  me, 
perhaps  because  he  could  not  respect  me.  Love 
makes  a  women  either  proud  or  humble,  Alice.  It 
humbled  me,  and  this  new  thought  stung  me  to  the 
quick.  I  resolved  to  make  myself  different — to  be 
so  good  that  he  would  love  me.  I  wanted  him  to 
love  me.  And  although  I  spent  the  days  and 
nights  in  anxiety,  I  look  back  on  that  summer  as 
the  happiest  of  my  life,  for  no  matter  how  hard 
the  struggle,  there  is  nothing  so  sweet  as  to  try 
of  your  own  accord  to  make  yourself  better  for 
the  one  you  love,  when  it  is  all  your  own  secret. 
I  should  hate  a  man  who  wanted  me  to  be  bet 
ter  ! 

"  Most  unfortunately  for  us,  Max  was  poor  and  I 
was  rich.  I  really  think  that  I  myself  never  should 
have  thought  of  this.  But  my  father  " — and  Kate's 
face  flushed  at  the  recollection  of  it — "  my  father 
said  that  a  gentleman  should  never  feel  the  lack  of 
money.  Absurd  as  it  sounds  to  me  now,  knowing 
as  I  do  that  according  to  that  theory  there  are  very 
few  gentleman  in  the  world,  nevertheless  when  one 
is  younger  one  feels  such  things  much  more  keenly. 
I  was  sensitive  and  foolish  and  young — three  most 
unfortunate  things  according  to  my  way  of  thinking 
now — and  I  felt  on  raw  nerves  every  one  of  the 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  147 

stings  which  his  keen  sarcastic  wit  was  capable  of 
making  at  Max's  expense. 

"  This  is  not  a  very  noble  love  story  I  am  telling 
you,  is  it  Alice  ?  Make  excuses  for  me,  if  you  can. 
Not  that  I  excuse  myself,  but  I  have  suffered 
enough  since  to  wipe  out  every  sin  I  ever  com 
mitted  with  drops  of  my  heart's  blood. 

"  Max  felt  the  difference  in  our  positions  even 
more  than  my  father  did,  although  I  did  not  know 
it,  and  I  was  not  noble  enough,  when  I  began  to 
love  him,  to  ascribe  any  virtues  to  him  which  I  had 
not  seen  in  other  men.  I  loved  him  simply  because 
I  could  not  help  myself.  I  was  walking  by  sight 
and  not  by  faith,  and  just  at  that  time  my  sight  was 
not  very  lofty.  I  had  a  contempt  for  most  men. 
Such  hosts  of  them  had  made  love  to  me.  Some 
were  too  stupid  to  conceal  that  my  fortune  would 
be  no  drawback.  Some  were  too  eager,  simply  be 
cause  I  had  pleased  their  eye,  to  deceive  even  a 
young  girl  as  to  their  real  selves.  Some  were  too 
business-like  to  satisfy  the  sentimental  side  of  my  na 
ture.  Some  were  too  young  for  me  not  to  know  that 
I  overtopped  them  mentally  ;  some  too  old  ever  to 
learn  anything  new  ;  but  most  of  them  too  gross  not 
to  repel  as  sensitive  a  creature  as  I,  and  I  loathed 
them  all  for  daring  to  call  themselves  in  love  with 
me.  I  suppose  they  thought  they  were.  I  suppose 
they  believed  in  themselves.  But,  to  my  mind,  they 


148  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

never  knew  the  meaning  of  the  word.  And  so,  in 
spite  of  lofty  ideals,  and  wanting  to  believe  ir.  men,  the 
very  men  themselves  dragged  their  sex  down  for  me, 
and  lowered  my  standard  of  men,  and  drove  me  fur 
ther  and  further  toward  the  material  side  of  humanity. 
"  So  when  I  would  have  believed  in  Max,  my 
worldly  wisdom  stepped  in  and  held  me  back,  and 
made  me  misjudge  him.  Then  when  still  he  held 
off  from  me  in  words,  while  letting  me  read  in  every 
other  way,  as  a  man  will,  even  when  he  doesn't  mean 
to,  that  he  loved  me,  my  ease-loving,  pleasure- 
choosing  nature  revolted  against  the  cruelty  and 
hardship  of  loving  a  man  with  all  my  heart  who 
didn't  or  wouldn't  love  me,  and  I  grew  angry  and 
suspicious.  A  man  once  said  to  me,  when  he  was 
asking  me  to  marry  him,  '  There  was  a  time  when 
I  hated  you  because  so  many  other  men  loved  you, 
and  because  you  made  so  many  men  suffer.  I  hated 
you  the  more  because  I  knew  that,  if  I  came  near  you, 
I  should  love  you  too,  just  as  blindly  and  irresistibly 
as  they  did.  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  steel 
myself  against  you,  and  make  you  love  me,  just  as 
hopelessly  as  men  have  loved  you,  and  then,  when 
I  was  ready,  I  would  turn  my  back  on  you  as  heart 
lessly  as  you  appeared  to  turn  yours  on  them.  But 
your  simplicity,  where  I  had  expected  to  find  arts 
and  wiles,  disarmed  me  too  completely,  and  this  is 
the  result.' 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  149 

"  That  gave  me  a  new  point  of  view  ;  but,  Alice, 
I  never  had  anything  to  terrify  me  so  much  in  all 
my  life.  To  think  that  a  man,  a  great,  strong, 
grown  man,  who  had  nothing  against  me  but  the 
fancied  wrongs  of  other  men,  should  have  planned 
in  cold  blood  the  wrecking  of  my  life — for  if  he 
had  succeeded  I  should  have  gone  straight  to  the 
devil,  nothing  could  have  saved  me — fairly  froze 
my  blood  with  fear.  I  felt  that  instead  of  expect 
ing  any  man  to  be  my  friend,  I  must  regard  every 
stranger  as  a  possible  foe.  And  this  thing  crept 
into  my  mind  when  Max  acted  so  curiously.  Oh, 
it  shames  me  unspeakably  to  think  that  I  ever  could 
have  allowed  it  to  enter  a  heart  which  pretended  to 
love  such  a  man  as  Max ! 

"  But  the  trail  of  the  serpent  was  even  there,  and 
I  looked  at  it  until  it  grew  familiar,  and  then  I  acted 
on  the  suggestion.  I  grew  revengeful.  I  vowed 
that  if  he  did  not  already  love  me,  he  should  come 
to  it ;  and  if  he  did  love  me,  he  should  tell  me  so. 

"  1  put  my  own  feelings  entirely  out  of  sight.  And 
I  made  myself  just  as  attractive  to  him  as  I  possibly 
could.  I  grew  reckless,  and  encouraged  him  and 
lured  him  on,  because  it  was  exciting  and  different 
from  anything  I  ever  had  encountered  before,  and 
because  I  didn't  care  what  the  consequences  might 
be.  I  let  the  future  take  care  of  itself. 

"  I  could  see  that  he  was  puzzled  and  surprised, 


150  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

but  attracted.  Wherever  I  led,  he  followed,  but  in 
silence.  His  resistance  made  m^  cT^n  more  de 
termined,  more  eager,  until  one  day  I  wrung  the 
truth  from  him,  and  he  asked  me  to  be  his  wife. 
He  said  he  never  had  meant  to  tell  me,  but  I  knew 
that  I  had  made  him,  and  when  he  told  me  how  he 
loved  me,  and  that  he  had  loved  me  from  the  very 
beginning,  I  grew  ashamed  and  frightened  at 
discovering  for  the  first  time  what  it  was  to  be 
loved  by  a  man,  a  real  man,  not  a  make-believe 
or  a  beast ;  a  man  who  never  had  loved  anybody 
but  me,  who  was  no  gallant  to  sigh  at  the  feet  of 
every  girl,  but  who  loved  me  in  the  old-fashioned 
way,  which,  if  I  were  not  such  a  worldling  that  I  have 
grown  ashamed  to  regard  love  as  sacred — that's 
what  the  world  does  for  one,  Alice — I  should  say  had 
something  holy  about  it. 

"  I  thank  Heaven,  as  I  look  back,  that  I  had  enough 
of  the  eternal  in  me  to  reverence  it  and  accept  it  and 
to  return  it  in  a  degree,  although  I  was  not  able  to 
return  it  in  kind,  because  I  had  had  too  many  affairs 
before.  I  only  wish  now  that  I  had  been  enough  of 
a  woman  to  be  honest  with  him,  and  to  give  him  the 
comfort  of  letting  him  know  how  I  did  love  him.  But 
I  had  the  coquette's  idea  of  keeping  a  man's  love 
by  withholding  the  full  expression  of  it — of  never 
saying  that  which  he  most  wanted  to  hear.  And 
although  Max  poured  his  whole  honest,  faithful 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  151 

soul  out  at  my  feet,  he  never  knew  how  dearly  I 
loved  him.  He  knows  it  now. 

"  Once  you  asked  me  why  I  loved  West  Point. 
It  was  because  I  fell  in  love  with  Max  there.  He 
wore  the  cadet  gray.  He  walked  with  me  down 
Flirtation.  He  danced  with  me  at  the  hops,  and 
once  they  serenaded  me  with  '  Benny  Havens,'  just 
as  they  did  you. 

"  I  think  I  am  foolish  for  going  year  after  year 
to  a  place  which  harrows  me  up  and  nearly  kills  me 
with  its  memories, but  every  inch  of  the  ground  is  dear 
to  me.  I  love  every  bugle-call,  which  used  to  mean 
so  much  to  us.  As  I  look  back,  Alice,  it  seems  that 
I  have  lived  and  died  by  bugle-calls,  for  they  sig 
nalled  all  our  little  engagements  with  each  other, 
which  were  so  short  but  so  clear  to  both  of  us,  held 
sometimes  at  the  most  inconvenient  hours  ;  and  it 
was  the  bugle  which  said  whether  we  could  be  to 
gether  five  minutes  or  an  hour  ;  and  I  loved  it  until 
once  it  played  'taps,'  'out  your  lights,'  for  the  last 
time  over  Max's  grave.  The  lights  went  out  for  me 
then  and  forever. 

"  I  wish  I  could  remember  where  I  first  met  him. 
I  am  so  jealous  of  every  memory,  now  that  he  is 
dead,  that  I  would  give  anything  if  I  could  remem 
ber  every  idle  word,  and  all  the  jests,  and  little  half- 
quarrels,  and  the  joy  of  '  making  up  '  in  those  days, 
before  we  knew  that  we  loved  each  other.  He  is 


152  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

so  much  to  me  now  that  it  seems>  is  if  I  ought  to 
have  felt  him  coming,  and  known  him  out  of  all  the 
world.  You  know  where  you  met  Gordon.  You 
remember  the  first  time  you  touched  his  hand,  the 
first  look  he  gave  you.  Whatever  else  you  lose, 
you  will  always  have  that  memory.  Do  you  know 
these  lines  ? 

"  '  I  wish  I  could  remember  that  first  day, 

First  hour,  first  moment  of  your  meeting  me, 

If  bright  or  dim  the  season,  it  might  be 

Summer  or  winter  for  aught  that  I  can  say, 

So  unrecorded  did  it  slip  away  ; 

So  blind  was  I  to  see  and  to  foresee, 

So  dull  to  mark  the  budding  of  my  tree, 

That  would  not  blossom  yet  for  many  a  May. 

If  only  I  could  recollect  it — such 

A  day  of  days  !     I  let  it  come  and  go 

As  traceless  as  a  thaw  of  by-gone  snow, 

It  seemed  to  mean  so  little,  meant  so  much. 

If  only  now  I  could  recall  that  touch, 

First  touch  of  hand  in  hand — did  one  but  know  !' 

"  When  you  take  up  a  book  of  poetry  with  such 
verse  as  that  in  it,  Alice,  you  only  half  read  it,  no 
matter  how  carefully  you  look  at  each  word.  But 
when  you  trip  over  it  by  accident,  and  you  have 
lived  it  all  out  in  your  heart  beforehand,  and  the  poet 
has  only  put  your  soul  into  words,  then  you  not  only 
are  reading  it — you  are  living  it. 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  153 

"  Max  was  not  brilliant,  but  I  was  desperately  am 
bitious  for  him,  as  I  am  for  myself  and  for  you  and 
for  every  one  I  love — ambitious  to  make  the  most 
of  every  opportunity,  and  to  wrest  from  life  all  that 
it  has  to  offer.  So  you  can  imagine  my  disappoint 
ment  when  he  suddenly  resigned  from  West  Point  to 
obtain  a  business  position.  For  a  long  time  I  did 
not  know  why.  Then  I  discovered  that  it  was  to 
enable  him  to  offer  me  more.  He  never  told  me. 
I  accidentally  discovered  it  from  something  he  said, 
and  I  never  let  him  know  that  I  knew,  for,  while  I 
was  touched  beyond  words  to  express,  my  disap 
pointment  was  so  bitter  at  his  not  understanding 
me  better  that  I  dared  not  trust  myself  to  speak  of 
it  to  him. 

"Quiet  men,  men  who  are  not  brilliant  them 
selves,  always  love  women  like  me,  and  while  doing 
their  plodding  best,  sometimes  misunderstand  us 
lamentably.  He  never  knew  that  distinction  would 
be  infinitely  more  to  me  than  wealth.  I  cared 
nothing  for  what  I  was  born  into.  My  ambition 
reached  out  towards  the  unattainable.  But  when 
he  made  the  sacrifice,  mistaken  though  it  was,  and 
made  it  so  gladly  because  it  was  for  me,  how  could 
I  explain  it  to  him?  I  did  not  understand  his 
heroism  even  then.  I  had  to  have  a  harder  lesson 
to  teach  me  to  have  faith  in  humanity.  He  always 
comforted  himself  by  his  belief  that  his  younger 


154  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF   THINGS 

brother  would  distinguish  himself  in  his  stead  and 
win  a  higher  place  than  Max  could  ever  have  won. 
His  brother  was  the  clever  o^,  and  Max  idolized 
brilliancy,  as  most  silent  men  do. 

"  But  Max  in  a  dull,  commonplace  business  was 
quite  different,  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  from  Max 
in  the  army.  The  world  said  I  ought  to  do  better. 
The  dear,  kind,  friendly  world,  which  had  done  so 
much  for  me  already,  which  had  transformed  me 
from  an  impetuous,  hopeful,  believing  girl  into  a 
suspicious,  calculating,  worldly  woman,  stepped  in 
and  said  it  had  predicted  a  brilliant  match  for  me, 
and  shook  its  head  with  a  smile — the  hateful,  patron 
izing,  sneering  smile  of  the  world  at  the  rural  idea 
of  any  genuine  emotion — over  Max's  pretensions 
to  my  hand.  My  hand !  Alice,  I  am  telling  you 
honestly,  and  you  know  humility  is  not  one  of  my 
virtues,  when  I  say  that,  to  compare  the  cleanness 
of  my  hand  with  his,  in  the  horrible  clear  light  of 
Absolute  Truth,  I  was  not  worthy  to  be  his  wife. 
I  was  frivolous,  selfish,  a  flirt;  and  if  I  am  anything 
else  to-day  it  is  because  I  have  lived  since  by  his 
life.  Whatever  I  am,  I  owe  to  him. 

"I  said  a  moment  ago  that  the  world  said  I 
ought  to  do  better.  It  was  the  world,  largely  in 
the  person  of  my  father.  I  will  speak  no  harm  of 
the  dead.  The  best  I  can  say  of  him,  and  I  believe 
this  is  the  truth,  is  that  he  did  not  know  how  gen- 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  155 

uinely  Max  loved  me,  and  I  was  too  proud — too 
wicked,  I  call  it  now — to  let  any  one,  even  Max 
himself,  know  how  much  I  loved  him.  Oh,  what  a 
mistake  coquettes  make  !  If  only  I  could  have  him 
back  for  just  one  hour,  I  would  trample  my  pride 
and  my  vanity  and  my  worldliness  under  my  feet, 
and  I  would  give  him,  to  his  heart's  content,  the 
comfort  I  never  once  gave  him  then,  of  letting  him 
know  that  I  loved  him  with  all  my  soul,  as  I  love 
him  now,  and  as  I  shall  love  him  till  I  die. 

"  My  father  couldn't  have  known  this,  could  he, 
Alice  ?  No  man  could  have  been  cruel  enough  to 
ridicule  what  we  felt  for  each  other,  could  he?  But, 
oh,  he  said  so  much,  and  he  was  so  clever  with  it 
all !  I  was  proud  and  sensitive,  and  I  pretended 
not  to  care.  But  his  words  cut,  cut  down  into  the 
quick  of  my  foolish  vanity,  until  I  shiver  and  shrink 
even  yet  at  the  memory  of  certain  phrases  he  used. 
He  did  not  know  what  he  was  doing.  Oh,  he  could 
not  have  known  ! 

"But  I  was  almost  desperate,  driven  to  bay;  and 
when  the  war  broke  out,  and  Max  raised  a  com 
pany,  I  was  actually  glad,  for  I  thought  that  here 
was  an  opportunity  for  him  to  distinguish  himself, 
as  I  was  sure  he  would. 

"  Max  gave  up  his  business  as  cheerfully  as  if  he 
already  had  not  sacrificed  one  of  the  desires  of  his 
life  to  attain  it.  '  Duties  never  conflict,'  he  used  to 


156  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

say  to  me  when  I  rebelled  at  hard  things.  Ah,  but 
he  was  a  hero  ! 

"He  wanted  me  to  rr.r-ry  him  before  he  went. 
There  was  where  the  fine  simplicity  of  his  nature 
came  in,  which  I  was  too  poor  in  spirit  to  respond 
to.  When  once  I  had  persuaded  him  that  the  ob 
stacles  which  had  kept  him  from  speaking  had  been 
removed,  he  believed  so  utterly  in  my  truth  that  he 
never  gave  them  another  thought.  He  took  me  at 
my  word,  and  believed  my  nature  to  be  as  elemen 
tary  as  his  own.  It  was  not  all  my  fault,  Alice. 
Most  men  are  unworldly  naturally,  and  Max  was 
the  most  unworldly  of  them  all.  But,  oh  !  the  world 
is  a  power  which  women  feel  in  the  most  deadly 
way.  We  are  complex  enough  to  recognize  its  in 
fluence,  but  we  never  can  make  our  position  under 
stood  to  a  man.  He  frankly  turns  his  back  on  it 
and  says  to  a  woman,  '  I  want  you,  and  that's  all 
there  is  to  it.'  But  it  isn't.  Oh,  but  I'm  sick  of 
these  distinctions !  I  am  sick  of  my  woman  nature. 
I  should  love  to  be  primitive,  and  broad,  and  daring, 
as  men  are.  I  would  use  my  liberty  to  better 
advantage  than  they  do.  If  I  wore  no  fetters  I 
would  show  people  that  it  was  because  I  did  not 
need  them. 

"  That  was  the  sort  of  man  Max  was.  But 
I  could  not  explain  myself  to  him,  and,  Alice,  my 
hesitation  was  not  all  base.  It  was  partly  jeal- 


ON    THE   BOAT-HOUSE   STEPS  157 

ousy  for  him.  I  wanted  him  to  win  distinction,  so 
that  the  world  would  be  obliged  to  say  I  had 
done  well.  I  wanted  them  to  appreciate  him — to 
see  him  with  my  eyes.  That's  what  women  like 
me  have  to  do  for  the  quiet,  unassuming  men  who 
love  us. 

"  So  I  held  off,  and  promised  to  marry  him  when 
he  came  home.  I  told  him  to  do  something  great, 
something  to  make  me  proud  of  him.  I  tried  to 
appeal  to  his  ambition ;  but  it  was  pure  patriotism 
which  made  him  go  and  fight  for  his  country.  Then 
I  tried  to  prick  his  vanity,  but  he  had  none. 

"  I  never  shall  forget  the  way  he  looked  at  me. 
He  was  so  big  and  tall,  and  had  that  kind  way  of 
looking  down  that  most  big  men  have — the  protec 
tive  look,  brought  out  by  a  woman's  smallness  of 
stature.  Max  was  so  tall  that  even  I  seemed  little 
beside  him. 

"  I  knew  he  was  thinking  of  how  I  had  encour 
aged  him  to  love  me,  and  had  myself  broken  down 
all  the  barriers  his  pride  had  erected  between  us, 
and  that  now  I  refused  to  give  him  his  reward — I 
refused  to  live  up  to  my  noble  sentiments,  only  he 
wouldn't  hurt  me  by  saying  so.  He  only  squared 
his  shoulders  and  drew  a  deep  breath  and  looked 
over  my  head  at  the  opposite  wall,  while  I  stam 
mered  and  fluttered,  not  daring  to  speak  out,  and 
let  him  despise  me. 


158  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  So  he  went  away.  He  never  reproached  me. 
He  only  turned  at  the  door  and  looked  back  at 
me,  as  Lohengrin  looks  at  Elsa  when  he  is  leaving 
her  and  says,  '  Lebe  wohl.'  He  loved  me,  faults 
and  imperfections  and  worldliness  and  weakness, 
too  much  to  lay  a  feather's  weight  upon  my  hap 
piness.  But  I  have  thought  since  that  he  believed 
in  me  and  forgave  me  in  spite  of  appearances. 
Max  always  did  thai.  When  I  used  to  make 
speeches  to  people  which  were  too  daring  or  too 
wicked  for  conventionality,  and  instinctively  looked 
at  Max  to  see  if  he  disapproved,  he  always  forgave 
me  by  a  look  before  I  could  even  ask,  and  al 
ways  put  the  best  construction  upon  everything, 
and  said  I  didn't  mean  it,  and  believed  the  very 
best  of  me  always.  Oh,  Max  ! 

"  So  he  went  away.  I  never  saw  him  again.  He 
was  killed  in  his  first  battle,  trying  to  rally  his  men. 
They  were  in  a  panic  and  it  was  no  use.  But  if  he 
had  succeeded,  it  would  have  saved  the  day.  They 
told  me  that  there  never  was  a  more  desperately 
heroic  attempt  made  than  his.  He  forgot  himself. 
He  never  thought  of  danger.  He  was  like  a  lion 
when  he  was  roused,  and  he  was  killed  trying  to 
make  his  men  die  like  men.  But  they  were  mad 
with  fear  and  almost  rode  him  down. 

"  He  did  nothing  brilliant,  Alice,  dear.  He  nei 
ther  saved  the  day  nor  obtained  any  glory.  He 


ON    THE    BOAT-HOUSE    STEPS  159 

simply  gave  up  his  life  doing  his  duty  as  Max  would 
do,  only  regretting  that  he  had  not  succeeded 
better. 

"  He  lay  where  he  fell  for  hours,  wounded  fatally. 
And  when  they  finally  came  to  carry  him  from  the 
field,  he  knew  that  there  were  scores  of  others  who 
could  be  saved,  so  he  refused  to  go.  He  must  have 
lain  there  nearly  all  night,  suffering  alone.  When 
they  came  in  the  morning  they  found  him  there, 
dead.  And  in  his  hand  was  a  picture  of  me,  but  it 
was  held  so  tightly  that  they  had  to  bury  it  with 
him.  I  am  glad  they  did.  I  am  glad  my  face  is 
where  my  heart  is. 

"  That  was  my  hero,  Alice.  That  was  Max  Coun- 
selman,  Gordon's  brother." 

As  Kate  ceased  speaking,  Alice  gave  a  little  cry 
and  leaned  her  cheek  against  Kate's  flower-like 
face  in  a  silence  too  deep  for  words.  So  they  held 
each  other  closely  and  clung  together  as  women  do, 
looking  out  over  the  river  with  unseeing  eyes. 
Then  it  was  that  Alice  realized  that  perhaps  in  this 
lay  the  message  of  her  life,  and  that  here  and  now 
she  had  come  to  her  soul's  cross-roads. 


XI 

THE   BATTLE   OF    STOCKBRIDGE 

STOCKBRIDGE  society  was  quite  stirred  up  over 
the  arrival  in  town  of  three  noted  personages,  who 
became,  as  was  only  proper  and  right,  the  personal 
property  of  the  Copelands  and  Overshines.  One 
was  Senator  Cobb,  of  Washington,  whom  the  Stock- 
bridge  Conservative  ineffectually  tried  to  interview 
on  the  approaching  election  as  he  stepped  off  the 
train,  but  who  expressly  stated  that  he  was  here  on 
private  business,  in  so  embarrassed  a  manner  that 
the  reporter,  who  was  an  astute  young  man,  went 
back  to  the  office  of  the  Conservative  and  wrote  up 
the  senator's  career,  ending  with  the  announcement 
of  his  engagement  to  the  lovely  daughter  of  one  of 
our  esteemed  and  leading  citizens,  leaving  the  name 
blank,  and  then  held  it  over  to  await  developments. 

The  other  two  arrivals  were  John  Vandevoort,  of 
New  York,  and  Second  Lieutenant  Gordon  Coun- 
selman,  of  the  Third  Artillery,  who  were  guests  of 
the  Overshines. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STOCKBRIDGE       l6l 

Gordon  arrived  in  the  afternoon,  and  found  Miss 
Vandevoort  waiting  for  him  with  such  a  radiant 
face  and  in  so  bewitching  a  gown  that  Mollie  Over- 
shine,  in  spite  of  her  vehement  admiration  for 
Kate,  strongly  disapproved  of  the  way  Kate  was 
leading  that  poor  young  fellow  on.  She  kept  an 
eye  on  Kate  every  minute.  Not  a  vivacious  move 
ment  of  that  brilliant  young  woman  escaped  her ; 
not  a  tone  of  Gordon's  voice,  pleading  with  her  for 
something,  which  Kate  was  wickedly  but  laughingly 
denying  him.  Mollie  was  really  vexed  with  Kate. 
"  The  girl  has  no  heart,"  she  thought.  It  was  only 
the  judgment  of  the  world  upon  appearances,  and 
no  more  severe  and  no  more  unjust  than  many 
another  verdict  of  society  upon  circumstantial  evi 
dence.  It  is  only  by  knowing  the  under  side  of 
things  that  we  are  able  to  judge  brilliancy  gently. 

Miss  Vandevoort  was  far  too  clever  to  allow  Gor 
don  to  rush  to  call  upon  the  Copelands  the  moment 
he  arrived.  She  counselled  patience  both  on  ac 
count  of  reason  and  diplomacy,  and  Gordon  was 
obliged  to  admit  the  correctness  of  her  advice. 

The  lawn  at  the  Overshines  was  deep  and  soft 
and  velvety.  Kate  had  inaugurated  really  comfort 
able  rustic  chairs,  instead  of  the  terrible  back- 
breaking  combination  of  slats  and  knots  with  which 
many  excellent  people  strain  the  Christian  forbear 
ance  of  their  guests.  This  simple  cotip  d'etat  trans- 


162  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

formed  it  for  the  delightful  afternoon  hours  into  an 
out-of-door  drawing-room.  Mollie's  tea-table  and 
Kate's  work-stand,  a  foolish  but  attractive  little 
thing,  just  the  kind  of  a  three-legged  affair  that  men 
ridicule  and  secretly  admire,  and  always  tip  over, 
stood  within  easy  reach,  and  here  the  children 
adored  to  come  and  talk  and  be  laughed  at  and 
spoiled. 

John  Yandevoort,  a  taller,  grander,  gentler  edition 
of  Kate,  sat  watching  Peggy,  toiling  and  perspiring 
over  her  drawing.  Peggy  had  few  talents.  She 
had  to  dig  and  delve  for  the  acquirements  which 
Frances  fluttered  over  and  knew  without  looking 
at.  Frances  was  all  sentiment,  imagination,  and 
superstition.  Peggy  was  slow  and  practical  and  ut 
terly  reasonable.  Her  round  eyes  bulged  out  in 
wonder  at  the  caprices  and  mental  flights  of  Fran 
ces,  who,  much  to  her  disgust,  could  never  drag 
Peggy  upward,  nor  even  inspire  her  with  a  desire 
to  soar.  Metaphorically  speaking,  Frances  always 
wanted  to  take  the  middle  of  the  road,  with  plenty 
of  elbow  room,  and  Peggy  admiringly  stumbled 
along  some  distance  behind,  bravely  swallowing 
her  sister's  dust. 

"  I  wonder  if  all  that  grown  people  tell  children 
about  dying  is  true,"  said  Frances,  pirouetting 
about  her  father  and  Kate  and  the  others,  in  a 
smart  frock  and  scarlet  shoes. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STOCKBRIDGE        163 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Colonel  Overshine.  "  What, 
for  instance  ?" 

"Well,  is  it  true  that  somebody  is  dying  some 
where  in  the  world  every  minute  of  the  day  and 
night  ?" 

"Yes,  that's  true." 

"  My  !  Heaven  must  be  an  awfully  big  place.  It 
must  be  bigger  than  the  world,  or  it  couldn't  hold 
them  all." 

Peggy  looked  up  from  her  drawing,  and,  pushing 
the  hair  out  of  her  eyes,  said  judicially,  "Well,  I 
don't  know,  Frances.  You  must  remember  that 
hell  takes  care  of  a  good  many." 

Colonel  Overshine  exploded.  "Orthodoxy  for 
ever!"  he  roared. 

"  Don't  laugh  at  them,"  said  Kate,  biting  her 
lips  to  no  avail;  "it  spoils  them." 

"  Then  why  doesn't  it  spoil  you,  Aunt  Kate,  when 
people  laugh  at  everything  that  you  say  ?"  asked 
Frances. 

"  It  does,"  answered  Kate.  "  I  am  dreadfully 
spoiled,  Frances.  I'm  perfectly  horrid,  I  think." 

"  Vous  etes  une  ange !"  cried  the  child,  impetu 
ously  casting  herself  into  Kate's  arms. 

Peggy  saw  nothing  in  her  remark  to  laugh  at. 
She  got  up  from  the  grass  and  smeared  her  warm 
red  face  with  her  dirty  little  hand.  She  looked  at 
her  drawing  critically,  not  with  her  head  on  one 


164  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

side  as  Frances  would  have  done,  but  straight 
ahead,  with  her  round  eyes  glued  to  the  picture. 
Then  she  made  her  way  slowly  over  to  Colonel 
Overshine,  and  sidling  up  to  him,  she  said,  po 
litely: 

'"Cousin  Chris,  I've  drawn  a  picture  of  you. 
The  upper  part  is  a  very  good  likeness,  I  think, 
'specially  the  whiskers.  But  I  had  to  put  skirts  on 
you.  I  hope  you'll  excuse  me,  because  I  don't 
come  to  trousers  until  my  next  lesson." 

They  all  coughed.  Peggy  would  have  been 
much  hurt  if  they  had  laughed  at  her  work. 

"  Hum,  hum  !"  said  Colonel  Overshine,  burying 
his  red  face  in  his  handkerchief.  "  Very  good,  in 
deed,  me  dear.  And  as  you  say,  the  whiskers  are 
uncommonly  like.  But — er — put  me  into  trousers 
as  soon  as  you  can,  me  dear ;  I  feel  more  at  home 
in  them." 

"  Oh,  certainly.  I  forgot,  when  I  began,  that  I 
wouldn't  know  what  to  do  about  your  legs.  I  just 
happened  to  think  of  skirts  when  I  saw  Cousin 
Mollie  sit  down  by  you.  I  should  like  to  draw 
Frank.  He  has  been  very  kind  to  me.  Do  you 
think  he  would  mind  not  having  any  legs  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,  me  dear.  Frank  being  me  own  son, 
I  can  speak  freely,  and  say  he  is  one  of  the  most 
accommodating  boys  I  ever  saw.  If  you  have  no 
use  for  his  legs,  Peggy,  let  him  go  without.  The 


THE    BATTLE    OF    STOCKBRIDGE  165 

young   fellows  of  to-day  have  too   many  luxuries, 
anyhow." 

Frank  Overshine  was  one  of  those  amiable,  well- 
meaning  boys  who,  with  the  best  heart  in  the  world, 
always  did  everything  wrong.  He  was  slow,  good, 
and  exasperating.  He  always  lost  trains,  and  lost 
boats,  and  lost  everything  but  his  temper.  Kate 
made  fun  of  him  unmercifully,  but  he  adored  her 
in  spite  of  it.  She  called  him  "the  late  Frank 
Overshine,"  at  which  he  only  smiled  deprecatingly. 
He  was  always  planning  reform.  He  was  always 
turning  over  a  new  leaf.  But  he  lived  in  the  land 
of  to-morrow.  His  intentions,  however,  were  good, 
only  Kate  said  he  spent  the  most  of  his  time  paving 
hell.  And  that  saying  almost  shocked  several  mem 
bers  of  first  families  into  untimely  graves.  Stock- 
bridge  never  entirely  approved  of  Miss  Vandevoort 
after  that,  which  gives  you  a  very  good  idea  of 
Stockbridge. 

"  I've  just  been  out  to  see  the  Copelands,"  he 
announced,  genially.  But  as  he  generally  had  just 
been  out  to  see  the  Copelands,  this  surprised  no 
one.  Nevertheless,  they  all  listened  with  more  or 
less  interest. 

"  How  are  they  all  ?"  asked  Mr.  Vandevoort. 
"  I  thought  of  going  out  there  this  evening." 

"  Mrs.  Copeland  sent  word  that  she  hoped  to  see 
you  very  soon.  I  told  her  that  Mr.  Counselman 


l66  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

was  here,  too,  and  she  said  she  was  sorry  George 
was  not  in  town." 

Kate  smiled  wickedly. 

"Senator  Cobl>  ;s  there,  I  believe?"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  he  is  there  now,  but  he  is  going  on  the 
early  train  to-morrow.  He  wanted  to  go  to-night, 
but  Mrs.  Copeland  wouldn't  let  him." 

"  Why,  how  sudden  !"  said  Mrs.  Overshine.  "  I 
thought  he  meant  to  stay  several  days.  I  was 
going  to  entertain  him." 

"  He  got  a  telegram,"  said  Frank,  innocently, 
"calling  him  back  at  once." 

"  Then  we  ought  to  call  to-night,"  said  Colonel 
Overshine. 

"  Suppose  we  all  go,"  cried  Kate. 

"  All  right,"  agreed  Frank,  with  unnecessary 
promptness. 

"  How  many  times  have  you  been  there  to-day  al 
ready?"  asked  Kate,  mischievously. 

"Only  twice.  But  Mrs.  Copeland  sent  word 
last  night  that  she  wanted  to  see  me."  Frank  in 
voluntarily  buttoned  the  top  button  of  his  coat  and 
sat  up  straighter  with  the  importance  of  this  an 
nouncement.  Mrs.  Copeland  generally  treated 
him  with  a  silent  contempt,  which  the  poor  fellow 
never  saw  nor  felt.  But  his  mother  saw  it  and  felt 
it  and  resented  it. 

"How  is  Alice?"  she  said,  kindly,  in    order   to 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STOCKBRIDGE        167 

give  him  an  opportunity  to  speak  of  her.  He  was 
her  only  son,  and  she  could  not  help  wanting  to 
lift  him  over  the  hard  places. 

"  Why,  mother,  I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter 
with  Alice.  I  never  saw  her  stirred  up  so,"  he 
said,  with  more  animation  than  he  generally  dis 
played.  "You  know  how  gentle  and  sweet  she  is, 
and  how  she  never  loses  her  temper  ?  Well,  when 
I  was  telling  her  what  Cousin  Kate  had  planned 
for  the  week  while  John  and  Mr.  Counselman  were 
here,  and  said,  of  course,  she  was  to  go  everywhere 
we  went,  and  all  that,  she  almost  stamped  her  foot 
— at  least  I  saw  it  move — and  she  said  her  mother 
wouldn't  let  her  go,  and  that  she  had  to  dress  ninety 
dolls  this  week  for  that  fair  the  Presbyterian  church 
is  going  to  have." 

"Ninety  dolls!"  cried  Gordon  Counselman. 

"  Ninety  dolls  !"  exclaimed  everybody  else  in  a 
breath. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  they  were  all  for  me,"  said  Frances, 
modestly. 

"Why,  I  thought  Alice  had  the  candy  table," 
said  Kate. 

"  She  has.     This  doll  table  is  a  new  idea." 

"  It  will  be  in  her  mother's  name,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Overshine,  "  but,  as  usual,  Alice  will  do  the 
work." 

Kate  frowned  abstractedly  for  a  moment ;  then 


l68  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

she  wandered  aimlessly  over  to  Frank,  and  under 
cover  of  the  general  conversation  she  said,  in  a 
low  tone  :  "  What  did  Mrs.  Copeland  want  of  you 
this  morning?" 

"  She  said  she  sent  for  me  to  know  if  John  Van- 
devoort  had  come." 

"  Was  that  all  she  wanted  ?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so.'1 

"  She  didn't  mention  Mr.  Counselman's  name  ?" 

"  Not  that  I  remember." 

"  Did  you  ?" 

"Oh  yes;  I  told  her  he  was  coming  this  after 
noon." 

"  Did  you  see  Alice?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  she  say  anything  about  the  dolls  then  ?" 

"  No  ;  she  seemed  in  unusually  good  spirits.  It 
was  this  afternoon  she  told  me  about  them.  Isn't 
it  too  bad  she  can't  go  ?" 

"  Can't  go  !  Wait  and  see  if  she  doesn't  go.  Is 
Mrs.  Copeland  the  Pope  of  Stockbridge  ?  I  never 
saw  anything  so  undisputed  as  her  sway,"  cried 
Kate,  indignantly. 

"  I  never  thought  of  it  at  all,"  said  Frank, 
honestly. 

"  Of  course  not.  Therein  lies  the  secret  of  her 
power.  It  takes  alien  eyes  to  discover  a  despot  so 
skilled  as  Mrs.  Copeland." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STOCKBRIDGE         169 

"  Don't  let  anybody  hear  you  say  that,"  begged 
Frank.  "  It  might  get  you  into  trouble.  We  have 
to  be  so  careful  what  we  say." 

"  Thank  Heaven  I  do  not  live  in  a  small  town !" 
cried  Kate,  raising  her  arms  above  her  head. 
"  Stockbridge  would  kill  me  in  a  year.  I  can't 
breathe  here.  It  may  suit  the  children,  and  it 
won't  hurt  them ;  but,  oh  me  !  the  fetters  on  my 
spirit !" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  about  the  children.  I 
imagine  that  they  misbehaved  yesterday — in  fact, 
had  a  regular  scrimmage.  Suppose  you  ask 
Hortense." 

Neither  Frank  nor  any  one  else  ever  thought  of 
referring  the  children's  discipline  to  their  father. 
He  was  quite  helpless  before  them,  and  perhaps 
none  of  the  family  realized  this  unfortunate  fact 
quite  so  poignantly  as  those  astute  young  persons 
themselves.  They  treated  him  like  an  adored 
bachelor  uncle,  who  was  always  giving  them  pres 
ents,  and  in  return  got  bullied,  confided  in,  ig 
nored,  consulted,  and  tormented  by  turns,  but  never 
minded.  Everybody  took  a  hand  at  managing 
them  except  their  father,  or,  rather,  everybody 
avenged  his  or  her  personal  affront  on  them,  and 
the  result  of  this  go-as-you-please  system  was  that 
they  were  as  they  were. 

Kate  was  the  only  one   who  had  a  conscience 


170  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

about  them.  She  always  treated  them  with  respect 
and  confidence,  and  they  returned  the  compliment 
with  the  unstinted  fervor  of  childhood. 

"I  prefer  to  ask  them.  They  will  tell.  Frances 
and  Peggy,  did  you  have  a  nice  time  yesterday  with 
Elsie  Copeland  ?" 

"  No,  Aunt  Kate,  w<,  had  a  horrid  time,"  re 
sponded  Frances,  with  cheerial  candor.  "  I  con 
sider  Mrs.  Copeland  a  most  unpleasant  old  party." 

Colonel  Overshine  shouted. 

"  You  said  so  yourself,  Cousin  Chris,"  insisted 
the  child.  "  I  heard  you." 

"  Elsie  is  a  very  ign'rant  girl,"  observed  Peggy, 
gravely.  "  She  is  lots  bigger  than  Frances,  but  she 
has  never  been  anywhere.  Just  think  of  it,  Papa, 
Elsie  Copeland  has  never  been  anywhere  except  to 
Philadelphia.  She's  never  been  to  Europe  even.'' 

"  And  she  isn't  half  as  far  in  her  arithmetic  as  I 
am,  and  she  didn't  know  what  geography  was." 

"  And  when  Frances  laughed  at  her,  Mrs.  Cope- 
land  said  Elsie  never  could  study  because  she 
was  always  sick.  That  was  what  started  it,"  said 
Peggy. 

"Started  what?"  asked  John  Vandevoort,  anx 
iously. 

"The  row  between  Frances  and  Mrs.  Copeland. 
But  I  was  in  it,  too,"  declared  the  child,  honestly. 
"  Because  Frances  was  so  mad  she  couldn't  see, 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STOCKBRIDGE         171 

and,  of  course,  she  was  talking  in  French,  and  Mrs. 
Copeland  couldn't  understand  her." 

"  Frances  Vandevoort,"  began  Mrs.  Overshine. 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Mollie,"  said  Kate.  "  Let  us 
see  how  it  began.  What  was  the  very  first  of  it, 
dearest  ?  Tell  Aunt  Kate." 

"  Why,  it  was  my  accidentally  laughing  at  Elsie 
because  she  didn't  know  anything.  I  didn't  mean 
to  be  rude.  But  I  was  talking  to  them  all  at  the 
table.  They  have  dinner  in  the  middle  of  the  day, 
and  let  children  come  to  the  table.  Oh,  I  think 
Stockbridge  is  too  queer  and  nice  for  anything!" 

"  Go  on  with  the  story,"  said  Kate. 

"Well,  I  was  telling  about  Japan,  and  Judge 
Copeland  was  listening  just  as  politely  as  possible. 
He  is  very  nice,  Aunt  Kate.  I  like  him.  He  said 
he  had  never  been  there,  but  he  asked  questions, 
and  I  was  telling  him  about  the  jinrikishas,  and  I 
said  to  Elsie  it  was  lots  funnier  and  nicer  than  the 
geography  says,  and  she  didn't  know  what  geog 
raphy  was.  And  I  laughed.  But  I  was  sorry  the 
minute  I  did  it,  because  it  made  the  judge's  face 
get  red.  I  suppose  he  didn't  want  us  to  see  that 
his  child  didn't  know  as  much  as  we  did,  and  she  is 
bigger  than  we  are.  I  was  just  going  to  say  I  was 
sorry  I  laughed,  when  Mrs.  Copeland  said,  'You  are 
a  very  rude  little  girl,  Frances,  and  if  you  were  not 
a  Vandevoort  I  would  send  you  from  the  table.'  " 


172  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"Ah-h!"  breathed  Kate. 

"Go  on,"  said  Colonel  Overshine.  "Then 
what  ?" 

"  Nothing  for  a  minute,"  put  in  Peggy,  slowly. 
"  But  you  ought  to  have  seen  Frances.  Her  face 
got  as  red  as  fire,  and  then  it  got  as  white  as  the 
table-cloth.  You  know  how  she  looks  when  she  is 
too  mad  to  speak.  She  looked  as  though  she  was  go 
ing  to  cry,  too.  And  that  made  me  feel  so  bad 
and  so  mad  at  Elsie's  mother  that  when  she  said 
that  about  Elsie  being  too  delicate  to  study,  I  said 
she  wasn't  sick  at  all.  It  was  just  thinking  so.  I 
said  she  was  as  well  as  I  was." 

"Oh,  Lord!"  cried  Colonel  Overshine,  burying 
his  face  in  his  handkerchief  and  rocking  himself 
back  and  forth.  "Those  children  will  be  the  death 
of  me.  Oh,  why  wasn't  I  there  to  see  this  thing. 
Peggy,  me  dear,  I'm  going  to  take  you  to  the  circus. 
Mollie,  I'm  going  to  give  the  children  a  party." 

"  Hush,  Chris.  Go  on,  Peggy.  What  happened 
then  ?" 

"  Then  Mrs.  Copeland  turned  on  Peggy,"  broke 
in  Frances.  "  And  she  looked  perfectly  furious, 
and  she  said,  'Who  said  that?  I  know  you  have 
heard  some  one  say  that.  Tell  me  who  it  was.'  But 
it  didn't  scare  Peggy  a  particle.  She  just  looked 
stupid,  the  way  she  does  when  she  wants  to,  and  I 
hollered  out,  '  Don't  tell,  Peggy.'  And  Mrs.  Cope- 


THE    BATTLE    OF   STOCKBRIDGE  173 

land  said  we  were  the  worst  children  she  ever  saw, 
and  that  if  we  were  hers,  she  would  whip  us." 

"  Then  Frances  got  down  from  her  chair  and 
threw  her  napkin  on  the  floor  and  stamped  on  it, 
and  ordered  Mrs.  Copeland  to  call  Hortense  to 
take  us  home.  Only  she  didn't  understand  French. 
Then  Mrs.  Copeland  said  to  the  judge,  '  What  an 
awful  child  !  Emily  Vandevoort's  temper.  I  wonder 
that  poor  John  has  not  sued  for  a  divorce  instead 
of  Emily,  and  long  ago,  too.'  Then  Frances  was 
raging.  She  said,  '  Don't  you  dare  speak  of  my 
mother's  temper,  or  of  my  father's  getting  a  divorce. 
Your  husband  ought  to  get  one  from  you.  You 
wicked  woman.  You're  worse  than  my  mother.' " 
"  In  French  ?"  pleaded  Colonel  Overshine. 
"  Don't  tell  me  she  said  that  in  French?" 

"  Yes,  and  it's  a  good  thing,  'cause  Mrs.  Cope- 
land  looked  as  though  she  could  kill  her,"  drawled 
Peggy. 

"  Oh,  Frances,  why  don't  you  speak  more  Eng 
lish  ?  Oh,  Mollie,  me  dear,  what  a  pity  the  old 
lady  didn't  get  that." 

"  Oh,  but  she  was  in  a  fury !"  Peggy  went  on.  "  It 
didn't  show  except  in  her  eyes.  But  she  started 
for  Frances,  and  I  thought  France  would  run,  the 
way  she  does  from  Mamma,  but  she  never  moved. 
Just  stood  still  and  looked  at  Mrs.  Copeland.  And 
she  stopped  and  never  touched  her.  Frances  said, 


174  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

'  Ring  the  bell  for  Hortense.'  Mrs.  Copeland  under 
stood  that,  because  she  pointed.  And  when  Hor 
tense  came,  we  shook  hands  with  the  judge,  and 
said  we  had  had  a  very  nice  time,  and  we  kissed 
Miss  Alice,  and  only  bowed  to  the  others,  and  came 
away  without  finishing  dinner." 

"We  shook  hands  with  Gifford  too,  Peggy," 
added  Frances,  calmly.  "  He  is  such  a  pleasant 
boy." 

Mrs.  Overshine  never  thought  of  referring  the 
trouble  to  their  father,  who  was  but  an  anxious  on 
looker  at  the  scene.  But  she  turned  to  Kate. 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  punish  them,  Kate.  They 
have  mortally  insulted  Mrs.  Copeland.  She  will 
never  forgive  me  for  this.  You  see  if  she  does.  I 
really  think  you  ought  to  take  them  in  hand." 

"  What  good  would  it  do,  with  Chris  going  on 
like  a  maniac  over  them?  Look  at  him  now  with 
Peggy.  I  tell  you,  Mollie,  clever  children  have  no 
opportunity  to  be  good  and  gentle  and  polite  with 
such  an  injudicious  family  as  we  are.  Besides  that, 
to  tell  you  the  truth,  in  my  secret  soul  I'm  glad 
the  Czar  of  Stockbridge  got  answered  once  in  her 
life  for  her  impertinence." 

"That  is  all  right  for  you,  Kate,  because  you 
don't  live  here.  But  after  you  go,  /'ve  got  to  keep 
on  living  here.  And  don't  forget  for  one  moment 
that  Mrs.  Copeland  will  take  it  all  out  on  me." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  STOCKBRIDGE         175 

"  Poor  Mollie.  Well,  let  us  hope  that  she  will 
take  into  consideration  that  we  are  Vandevoorts," 
said  Kate,  wickedly. 

Mrs.  Overshine  had  too  keen  a  sense  of  humor 
not  to  relax  a  little  at  Kate's  irony.  "  Neverthe 
less,  for  the  children's  sake,  you  ought  to  punish 
them,"  she  answered. 

But  Kate  shook  her  head.  She  remembered  the 
child's  face  as  she  left  her. 


XII 

THE    COPELAND    TERRACE 

IF  Mrs.  Overshine  had  been  in  Kate  Vande- 
voort's  confidence  she  never  would  have  permitted 
her  household  to  call  en  masse  upon  the  Copelands, 
for  no  sooner  had  the  families  fused  than  a  polite 
battle  royal  began  between  Miss  Vandevoort  and 
Mrs.  Copeland,  which  could  not  fail  to  give  the 
victory  to  Kate. 

Miss  Vandevoort  had  two  ways  of  managing. 
One  was  to  make  the  path  so  clear  that  the  most  ob 
tuse  could  not  fail  of  seeing  it.  The  other  was  so 
openly  to  speak  out  and  tell  her  plans  that  all  the 
men  and  a  few  of  the  women  would  disclaim  any 
idea  of  her  being  politic,  and  declare  her  the  frank 
est  creature  in  the  world.  The  rest  of  the  women 
raised  their  eyebrows. 

If  the  latter  were  true,  hers  was  the  art  which  con 
ceals  art,  for  while  Mrs.  Copeland  was  monopoliz 
ing  Mr.  Counselman  with  an  affability  which  was 
completely  disarming  the  unsuspicious  young  fel- 


THE  COPELAND  TERRACE  177 

low,  and  tempting  him  to  think  Miss  Vandevoort 
prejudiced  in  her  sweeping  denunciation  of  this 
amiable  lady,  while  he  was  thus  effectually  being 
separated  from  Alice,  with  no  signs  of  any  change 
being  compassed,  and  Alice's  face  was  growing 
longer  and  more  disappointed  every  moment,  Miss 
Vandevoort  rose  up  from  her  chair  and  said  : 

"  Mr.  Counselman,  have  you  seen  that  fine  view 
of  the  Delaware  to  be  had  from  the  side  terrace? 
But  of  course  not.  Judge  Copeland,  may  I  show 
your  precious  view  to  our  two  strangers  ?  Ah, 
thank  you.  Alice,  dear,  bring  Senator  Cobb,  and 
let  us  show  them  the  most  beautiful  sight  in  the 
world!" 

Youth  and  innocence  beamed  from  her  guileless 
countenance  as  she  swept  aside  the  ponderously  ad 
justed  machinery  of  her  antagonist,  and  detached 
the  helpless  creatures  who  were  powerless  to  help 
themselves.  The  senator,  with  his  head  down  and 
his  hands  under  his  coat-tails,  walking  beside  Alice, 
whose  face  openly  betrayed  her  discomfort,  plainly 
told  to  Miss  Vandevoort  the  story  of  his  rejec 
tion,  even  if  she  had  not  known  it  already  from 
Frank  Overshine's  ingenuous  recital. 

In  seating  themselves  on  the  boat-house  steps, 
Gordon  had  no  difficulty  in  placing  himself  beside 
Alice.  He  only  needed  half  a  chance;  but  no  un 
warned  man  is  a  suitable  antagonist  for  a  pre- 


178  THE    UNDER   SIDE   OF    THINGS 

determined  woman.  Besides  that,  it  is  said  that 
even  Jove  nods  upon  occasions;  but  if  Venus  ever 
did,  the  record  has  been  lost. 

In  the  half-light  of  the  setting  sun,  which  chari 
tably  did  its  best  to  conceal  the  pitiful  lowness  of 
the  river,  the  tiny  islands  which  had  risen  to  view 
as  the  river  sank,  and  the  smallnes?  of  the  stream 
which  crept  silently  by  where  it  once  i  id  flowed 
with  a  proud  crest,  no  one  would  have  taken  in  all 
the  defects  of  the  Delaware,  had  not  Miss  Vancle- 
voort,  with  the  Hudson  in  her  mind's  eye,  waved 
her  hand  and  said  : 

"  Fine  locality  for  a  river,  is  it  not,  Gordon  ?" 

"  The  poor  Delaware,"  said  Alice,  softly.  "  I  feel 
so  sorry  for  her.  She  has  done  her  best,  but  Fate 
was  against  her.  She  has  only  succumbed  because 
she  was  obliged  to." 

"That  is  only  why  the  most  of  us  succumb," 
said  the  senator,  bitterly.  "  Fate  is  against  us 
all." 

"  I  only  wish  some  good  heavy  rains  would  stay 
the  hand  of  Fate  in  our  lives  as  completely  as  it 
would  in  the  case  of  the  river,"  said  Gordon,  cheer 
fully.  "But  I  don't  believe  in  Fate.  Do  you,  Miss 
Vandevoort  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered  slowly.  "  I  be 
lieve  in  something — I  think  I  call  it  destiny.  It  is 
not  quite  so  pagan." 


THE  COPELAND  TERRACE  179 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  speaking  seriously,"  said  Gordon. 
"  Of  course  we  all  know  Who  orders  our  lives." 

Miss  Vandevoort  turned  her  head  away  abruptly. 
How  like  Max  to  avow  what  he  believed  so  fear 
lessly. 

"  Look  up  there,"  she  cried,  pointing.  "  See  the 
red  in  the  river,  and  the  black  shadows,  and  the 
silver  haze  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  the  purplish 
light  on  the  trees.  Isn't  that  a  lovely  picture  ?" 

"  What  a  beautiful,  misty  look  it  has,"  said  Gor 
don.  "  It  is  like  a  Corot." 

"  Only  in  a  Corot  we  call  that  haze  atmosphere, 
but  in  Pennsylvania  we  call  it  malaria,"  said  Kate. 
When  she  was  deeply  moved,  Miss  Vandevoort  al 
ways  was  most  frivolous. 

She  rose  as  she  spoke,  and  stood  looking  at  the 
river  absently.  Then  she  went  farther  down  the  steps 
and  paused.  She  knew  they  were  watching  her. 
She  knew  they  thought  her  absorbed  in  something 
she  saw.  But  the  truth  was,  she  was  trying  to  leave 
them  alone  so  skilfully  that  they  would  not  know 
they  had  been  left.  Lovers  are  delicate  objects  to 
handle. 

Again  she  paused,  and  looked  over  her  shoulder 
at  Senator  Cobb.  It  made  him  think  she  wanted 
him.  He  had  no  idea  that  Mr.  Counselman  was  in 
terested  in  Alice,  or  possibly  he  would  not  have 
been  so  amiable.  He  merely  thought,  as  Gordon 


l8o  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

was  in  the  way  and  he  could  not  see  Miss  Copeland 
alone,  that  he  might  as  well  follow  Miss  Vande- 
voort.  She  always  amused  him.  That  was  one  rea 
son  why  most  men  were  willing  to  follow  her.  She 
always  amused  everybody. 

"  I  love  Miss  Vandevoort,"  said  Alice,  impul 
sively,  as  they  watched  her  retreating  figure. 

"  Do  you  ?"  said  Gordon,  smiling.  "  I  believe  I 
almost  do  myself.  I  owe  her  a  gre->t  deal.  It  was 
she  who  obtained  my  appointment  ai  West  Point. 
I  had  no  influence  at  Washington,  but  1  was  ap 
pointed  by  the  President.  My  brother  Max  hoped 
to  be  able  to  manage  it,  because  he  was  ambitious 
for  me.  You  know  Max  was  engaged  to  Miss  Van 
devoort,  and  I  think  that  is  the  reason  she  has 
never  married.  She  is  a  great  belle,  and  always 
has  been.  I  have  heard  my  mother  say  that  Miss 
Vandevoort  could  have  occupied  almost  any  posi 
tion  she  wanted,  so  many  really  superior  men  have 
been  in  love  with  her.  I  suppose  it  is  true — women 
know  so  much  more  about  those  things  than  men. 
I  know  the  fellows  at  West  Point  go  crazy  about 
her  every  time  she  comes  there.  She  never  has 
been  the  same  since  my  brother's  death.  I  tell 
you,  Max  was  a  fine  fellow.  The  sweetest  thing 
about  Miss  Vandevoort  is  the  way  she  has  done  so 
many  things  that  Max  intended  to  do.  Now  she 
knew  Max  wanted  me  in  the  army.  And  one  day 


THE  COPELAND  TERRACE          l8l 

she  said  to  me,  '  Would  you  like  to  go  to  West 
Point  ?'  Before  I  thought,  I  said,  '  I'd  rather  go 
there  than  to  do  anything  else  in  the  world.'  That 
was  all.  She  just  smiled.  We  never  spoke  of  it 
again.  But  she  was  a  great  friend  of  the  President's, 
and  visited  at  the  White  House  every  winter.  The 
next  year  I  was  appointed.  That's  the  way  she 
does  things." 

"  It  is  just  like  her,"  said  Alice. 

"  Yes,"  said  Gordon,  "  it  is  just  like  her.  Do  you 
know,  even  yet  I  can't  get  used  to  thinking  of  Max 
as  dead.  Whenever  I  see  Miss  Vandevoort  I  think 
he  ought  to  be  there  with  her.  She  never  talks 
about  him,  but  once,  when  we  had  a  long  conversa 
tion  after  somebody  had  worried  her  with  their  gos 
sip,  she  said,  '  Knowing  your  brother  has  put  other 
men  out  of  the  question  for  me.'  I  wish  that  he 
could  have  lived — for  her  sake.  Still,  I  suppose  it 
isn't  right  to  say  such  things." 

He  broke  off  abruptly  and  shook  his  head,  as  he 
always  did  when  anything  bothered  him. 

There  was  a  silence  between  them  for  a  moment. 
Then  Gordon  said : 

"  I  never  was  so  glad  to  see  any  one  in  all  my  life 
as  I  was  to  see  you  this  evening." 

"  Were  you  ?  I  hardly  thought  you  would  come 
the  first  day  you  were  in  town." 

Gordon  laughed. 


l82  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  I  wanted  to  come  this  afternoon  —  I  should 
have  liked  to  come  straight  from  the  train,  but 
Miss  Vandevoort  wouldn't  let  me." 

"  I  suppose  she  thought  it  wouldn't  have  been 
proper." 

"  No,  that  wasn't  the  reason." 

"What  was  it,  then?" 

"  I  am  afraid  to  tell  you." 

"  Perhaps  I  know  already,"  said  the  gin,  Hvshing. 
"  I  have  done  you  an  injustice  in  my  thoughts,  but 
— it  was  not  my  fault." 

"  You  couldn't  help  it,"  he  declared.  "  I  don't 
blame  you.  But  I  couldn't  write  again." 

"  No,"  said  Alice.     "  Certainly  not.     But—" 

"But  what?" 

"  Nothing." 

Gordon  reached  out  timidly  and  took  her  hand. 
Alice  made  a  faint-hearted  effort  to  withdraw  it, 
then  left  it  there,  and  for  a  moment  they  sat  there 
in  silence.  Alice  was  frightened,  but  tremblingly 
happy.  She  felt  that  her  secret  was  slipping  away 
from  her,  and  passing  into  the  keeping  of  the  one 
from  whom  she  would  have  hidden  it  the  most  care 
fully;  and  yet  she  did  not  care.  For  the  first  time 
in  her  life  she  was  indulging  in  an  emotion  unre 
stricted  by  anybody  or  anything.  For  the  first  time 
she  was  letting  herself  go.  It  had  all  the  intoxi 
cation  of  a  timorous  daring  to  the  little  Quaker 


THE  COPELAND  TERRACE          183 

maiden.  And  when  Gordon  said,  "  I  love  you, 
Alice,  dear,"  it  sounded  so  natural,  so  exactly  as  if 
he  had  been  saying  it  forever,  that  she  smiled  at 
him  with  all  her  heart  in  her  eyes,  and  the  gates  of 
Paradise  swung  open  for  another  pair  of  pilgrims 
from  earth. 

It  was  so  delightful  to  go  back  to  the  very  begin 
ning  and  talk  it  all  over,  and  to  tell  each  other 
everything  they  had  not  dared  to  mention  at  the 
time. 

"  And  you  were  the  prettiest  girl  at  the  hop," 
Gordon  declared.  "  I  think  you  are  the  prettiest 
girl  I  ever  saw." 

"  Oh,  nobody  ever  called  me  pretty  before,"  dis 
claimed  Alice. 

"  Then  I  don't  see  where  their  eyes  have  been." 

"  But  I  shouldn't  have  liked  it  if  they  had." 

"  Well,  I  shall  say  it  as  often  as  I  please,  and 
you  must  listen,  because  I  can't  help  myself.  You 
never  looked  as  lovely  as  you  do  to-night." 

"  To-night  ?     In  this  old  dress  ?"  cried  Alice. 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  worn  it,  but  being 
in  love  would  breed  coquetry  in  a  vestal  virgin. 

"  Nobody  was  ever  so  happy  as  we  are,  were 
they  ?"  asked  Gordon. 

"  I  don't  see  how  they  could  be.  I  never  was 
happy  at  all  before,  so  I  am  no  judge  of  it." 

"  You  never  were  ?     Why,  I  have  been  happy  al- 


184  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

ways.  Not,  of  course,  like  this.  But  I  have  found 
the  world  beautiful  and  people  good,  and  I've  al 
ways  had  plenty  to  be  thankful  for." 

"  I  have  had  all  that,"  said  Alice  ;  "  yet  somehow 
I  have  always  just  missed  happiness.  The  near 
est  I  ever  have  come  to  it  has  been  when  my 
father  and  I  have  been  studying  or  talking  together 
alone." 

"  My  dear  little  girl !  I  will  give  ail  *he  rest  of 
my  life  to  trying  to  make  you  happy.  I  hate  to 
think  that  you  have  missed  it  all  this  time." 

"  I  don't  know  what  there  is  in  the  future,"  said 
Alice.  "  But  I  wish  things  would  always  stay  just 
as  they  are  now." 

"Oh,"  said  Gordon,  laughing,  "we  would  get 
tired  of  boat-house  steps  and  summer  evenings  and 
the  river  view,  /want  to  think  of  a  home  of  my 
own,  and  you  for  my  wife,  and  of  your  coining  to  the 
door  to  tell  me  good-bye  when  I  go  away,  and  of 
your  meeting  me  there  when  I  come  back.  I  am 
stationed  at  Fort  Hamilton,  and  I  know  you  will 
like  it  there." 

"  I  ?"  cried  Alice.     "  Oh,  you  don't  mean  soon  ?" 

"  Why  not  ?  My  position  is  secure.  I  know 
exactly  what  I  have  to  offer  you,  and  why  need 
we  wait  ?" 

"  My  mother — "  began  Alice. 

Gordon  squared  his  shoulders. 


THE  COPELAND  TERRACE          185 

"Yes,  I  know,"  he  said.  "I  suppose  she  will 
want  you  to  wait." 

"  I  am  afraid  she  won't — " 

"  Won't  what  ?" 

"  Let  me  have  you  at  all."  Alice  blushed  vio 
lently  over  the  temerity  of  that  speech,  but  the 
darkness  was  friendly. 

"  Oh,  but  she  must !"  said  Gordon,  vehemently. 
"  You  have  promised  me.  And  I  believe  you." 

"  You  may  believe  me,"  cried  Alice.  "  She  must 
not  separate  us." 

Gordon  smiled  confidently. 

Mrs.  Copeland  was  not  used  to  direct  methods 
in  anything.  She  delved  and  circumnavigated  so 
much  that  frankness  upset  and  hurry  completely 
finished  her. 

Gordon  came  to  ask  for  Alice  the  next  day — the 
very  next  morning,  if  you  please — and  suggested 
being  married  in  the  autumn. 

He  found  the  judge  first,  and  made  his  avowal  so 
frankly,  as  if  expecting  him  to  understand  why  he 
could  not  help  loving  Alice,  and  his  youth  and  hon 
esty  were  so  appealing,  that  the  judge  forgot  for  one 
moment  his  wife  and  the  senator  from  Ohio,  and  gave 
his  consent  before  he  realized  what  he  was  doing. 

Armed  with  this,  Gordon,  with  slower  steps, 
sought  Mrs.  Copeland. 

She  was  sitting  unsuspiciously  in  her  morning- 


l86  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

room,  with  her  fancy  work.  Her  manner  when 
Gordon  came  in  was  almost  cordial ;  but  when  he 
plunged  at  once  into  the  heart  of  his  subject,  and 
she  discovered  what  had  taken  place,  her  anguish 
and  disappointment  and  hurt  pride  at  being  out 
witted  were  so  intense  and  so  confusing  that  she 
took  refuge  in  such  pleading  with  Gordon  not  to 
marry  Alice,  not  to  rob  her  of  her  dearest,  almost — 
now  that  she  was  about  to  lose  her — her  only 
child,  that  in  an  ordinary  matter  Gordon  would 
have  yielded.  But  coining  as  he  did  from  a 
healthy-minded,  normal  family,  it  struck  him  as 
such  an  impossible  proposition  that  he  was  obliged 
to  make  an  effort  to  take  her  seriously.  Mrs.  Gope- 
land  watched  his  ingenuous  face  like  a  hawk  from 
behind  her  handkerchief,  and  inwardly  chafed  to 
read  in  it  only  pity  and  kindness,  but  not  a  ray  of 
indecision.  Her  pleadings  were  so  anguished,  how 
ever,  that  Gordon  said : 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Gopeland,  I  am  very  sorry.  I  can 
understand  how  you  love  Alice,  because  I  love  her 
myself.  But — excuse  me  for  saying  so — you  could 
not  expect  to  keep  her  always." 

"  I  do  expect  to  keep  her  always.  I  want  my 
child's  love." 

"  You  have  that,  dear  Mrs.  Copeland.  And  you 
always  shall.  I  never  saw  a  more  devoted  daugh 
ter  than  Alice  is  to  you." 


THE  COPELAND  TERRACE  187 

"  Ah,  but  I  have  been  a  devoted  mother.  Don't 
forget  that,  Mr.  Counselraan.  I  want  my  children 
around  me  always." 

"  But  George  tells  me  that  he  is  to  live  at  home 
here  after  he  marries  Miss  St.  Francis,  so  you  will 
gain  a  daughter  for  the  one  you  lose." 

"  You  are  not  a  mother,  Mr.  Counselman — " 

Gordon  threw  his  head  back  and  laughed. 

"  No,  Mrs.  Copeland,  I  am  not." 

"  How  can  you  jest,  sir,  upon  so  serious  a  sub 
ject." 

"  I  didn't,  Mrs.  Copeland.      It  was  you." 

"  I  never  jested  in  my  life.  Well,  laugh  away, 
young  people.  The  time  will  come  soon  enough 
when  you  will  weep." 

"  Then  may  I  have  Alice  ?" 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  taking  her,  anyway. 
I  have  nothing  to  say  about  it." 

Gordon  looked  a  trifle  hurt. 

"  I  will  do  my  best  to  make  her  happy,"  he  said, 
looking  down. 

"  There  is  very  little  happiness  in  the  world, 
young  man.  If  you  look,  you  will  see  more  heart 
aches  than  smiles." 

"  I  don't  look  for  the  heartaches,"  said  Gordon, 
honestly.  "  And  I  see  the  smiles  without  looking." 

"  Alice  will  not  be  happy  with  you  long.  The 
tears  will  come  and  they  will  come  on  your  ac- 


1 88  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

count.  It  is  always  so.  The  woman  suffers ;  the 
man  laughs." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Gordon,  vehemently.  I  am 
going  to  be  good  to  Alice  always.  I  hope  you 
believe  that.'' 

"  You  mean  it  now,"  said  Mrs.  Copeland. 

"  May  I  see  Alice  ?"  asked  Gordon. 

"  I  don't  know  where  she  is,"  she  answered, 
without  looking  up. 

"  Then  I'll  find  her,  if  you  will  allow  me." 

She  did  not  notice  hib  !°ave-taking,  or  see  his 
proffered  hand.  He  looked  unusually  tall  and 
broad-shouldered  as  he  walked  away. 

He  found  Alice  down  by  the  boat-house,  and 
took  her  in  his  arms  without  a  word.  Alice  read 
his  face  and  asked  no  questions.  She  knew  that 
he  had  conquered,  and  she  guessed  at  what  he  had 
undergone. 

"  Alice,"  he  said  at  length,  "  I  wish  you  knew 
my  mother." 


XIII 
ALICE'S    WEDDING-DAY 

FOR  the  dramatis  persona;,  a  marriage  engage 
ment  is  an  uncomfortable  contrivance  in  many 
ways.  Like  the  misunderstood  honeymoon,  it  is 
easier  for  an  outsider  to  weave  romances  about  its 
perfect  bliss  than  it  is  for  the  courageous  partici 
pants,  who  are  simply  trying  to  live  it  down. 

If  you  are  engaged  to  a  man  of  wealth  and  sta 
tion,  you  have  to  fight  to  make  people  believe  you 
love  him — if  you  really  do.  If  you  are  engaged  to 
a  poor  man,  when  your  fond  relatives  had  predicted 
a  brilliant  match  for  you,  you  cannot  even  take  the 
comfort  of  throwing  yourself  heart  and  soul  into 
your  trousseau,  because  you  have  to  stop  now  and 
then  to  dangle  your  love  for  your  fiance  before 
their  eyes,  in  order  to  assure  them  that  it  will  stand 
the  stress  of  economy.  So  that  there  is  no  balm 
in  Gilead. 

Mrs.  Copeland  made  Alice's  a  period  of  mourn 
ing.  It  so  nearly  shattered  her  always  frail  consti- 


190  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

tution  that  she  never  was  a  well  woman  afterwards. 
All  Stockbridge  knew  this,  and  marvelled  in  her 
presence  at  the  wonder  and  mystery  of  mother- 
love. 

There  are  traditions  of  women  to  whom  their  en 
gagement  was  the  period  of  bliss  for  which  books 
are  the  authority.  But  books  are  so  misleading. 
There  are  other  women  who  would  not  live  through 
it  again  for  anything — even  to  acquire  the  husbands 
whom  its  trials  purchased. 

Alice  Copeland  suffered  an  agony  of  apprehen 
sion  through  every  hour  of  hers.  She  never  knew 
at  what  moment  the  thread  of  her  mother's  patience 
would  snap.  She  never  was  certain  that  Mrs.  Cope- 
land  would  let  her  marry  Gordon.  So  many  things 
conspired  against  her.  Mrs.  Copeland  seemed  to 
have  taken  a  violent  dislike  to  the  army,  and  daily 
regretted  that  George  was  so  unhappy  as  to  be  in 
its  infantry  service.  It  shows  the  superb  discipline 
of  her  household  that  no  one  dared  or  even  wished 
to  mention  the  fact  that  she  had  sent  him  there 
against  every  one's  wishes — even  his  own. 

The  several  unfortunate  things  which  had  be 
fallen  army  officers  during  her  lifetime  were  re 
hearsed  at  breakfast  every  morning,  Alice's  only 
defence  being  that,  at  least,  none  of  them  had  oc 
curred  recently,  or  to  any  member  of  Gordon's 
class. 


ALICES    WEDDING-DAY  191 

But  in  reality,  since  knowing  Mr.  Counselman 
and  discussing  family  trees  with  him,  Mrs.  Cope- 
land  had  no  more  intention  of  breaking  off  the 
match  than  Alice  herself.  But  neither  Gordon  nor 
Alice  knew  this.  Gordon  came  to  know  the  de 
scent  of  the  Giffords  as  well  as  he  did  that  of  the 
Copelands,  which  is  saying  a  great  deal.  He  once 
had  been  foolish  enough,  encouraged  by  a  question 
of  kindly  interest  from  the  judge,  to  offer  a  few  facts 
concerning  the  Counselmans,  and  the  not  inglorious 
part  they  had  played  in  the  making  of  America's 
history.  But  he  was  met  by  such  a  roaring  torrent 
— no,  the  mass  was  frozen  and  of  majestic  slow 
ness — such  an  iceberg  of  ancestral  history,  proving 
the  Giffords  to  have  been  descended  directly  from 
protoplasm,  and  each  the  most  peitect  lady  and 
the  most  perfect  gentleman  of  his  time  and  kind, 
that  Gordon  was  more  than  convinced  that  Mrs. 
Copeland  was  a  lady.  In  fact,  she  admitted  it 
herself. 

When  the  preparations  for  the  wedding  ceremony 
were  in  progress,  Alice  was  cheered  in  spite  of 
herself.  She  knew  that  her  mother's  pride  would 
allow  nothing  to  interfere  then.  She  even  caught 
herself  singing  once  or  twice ;  but  the  reproachful 
look  in  Mrs.  Copeland's  face  was  sufficient  to  make 
her  stop  instantly,  and  to  cling  to  her  mother  in 
a  real  and  somewhat  remorseful  affection,  to  think 


IQ2  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

that  she  could  be  willing  to  leave  her  for  anybody 
— even  for  Gordon. 

Two  days  before  the  wedding  the  papers  were 
full  of  the  suicide  of  Giles  Pratt,  Second  Lieutenant 
of  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth  Infantry.  It  was 
said  to  be  a  very  sad  affair,  and  a  second  great 
blow  to  the  family,  the  first  having  been  the  failure 
of  Mr.  Pratt's  father  some  three  months  before. 
The  details  of  the  unhappy  affair  were  not  made 
public,  but  something  quite  mysterious  was  hinted 
at. 

Alice  hardly  breathed  when  she  heard  of  it. 
She  even  thought  of  the  daring  idea  of  defying  her 
mother,  if  Mrs.  Copeland  should  pronounce  this 
an.  impassable  obstacle  to  her  marriage.  But  Mrs. 
Copeland  was  a  woman  capable  of  lofty  surprises. 
She  glossed  it  over  with  a  mental  wave  of  her  hand, 
which  almost  made  Alice  sick  with  relief,  the  re 
vulsion  of  feeling  was  so  great. 

Of  course  Kate  Vandevoort  came  down  for  the 
wedding.  And  so  did  her  brother,  because  Frances 
and  Peggy  were  to  be  flower  girls,  and  strew  the 
path  of  the  bridal  couple  with  the  roses  which  Mrs. 
Copeland  openly  predicted  would  soon  turn  to  rue. 

Many  guests  came  down  from  New  York,  and  all 
the  Giffords  from  Philadelphia  came.  Excellent 
people  they  were,  with  sterling  principles  and  large 
bank  accounts,  and  clothes  four  seasons  behind 


ALICE'S    WEDDING-DAY  193 

the  times.  That  was  the  Scotch  of  it — to  buy  good 
firm  material  which  wore  like  iron,  and  then  to 
wear  it  out. 

There  were  people  from  Washington  and  Fortress 
Monroe  and  Fort  McHenry  and  Fort  Hamilton, 
where  Gordon  was  stationed,  and  the  first  families 
of  Stockbridge  were  there  in  force.  There  never 
was  a  prouder  day  for  the  Presbyterian  church  or 
for  the  Stockbridge  Conservative,  whose  veracious 
chronicle  of  the  brilliant  affair  is  still  preserved  in 
the  scrap-books  of  several  maiden  aunts  who  were 
there  and  who  saw  it  all. 

"  Alice,  my  dear,"  cried  Kate,  who  was  maid  of 
honor  for  the — but  Kate  declared  she  had  lost 
track  of  the  number — "fancy  who  is  here?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.     Tell  me." 

"  Senator  Cobb  and  his  bride  !  Now  try  to  im 
agine  who  his  bride  is.  Mrs.  Verry  !  Yes,  honestly. 
I  want  to  know  if  you  ever  in  all  your  life  heard  of 
anything  so  delicious  !" 

"  I  think  it  is  pathetic,"  said  Alice. 

"I  came  to  help  you  dress.  Let  me  do  that  for 
you.  Are  you  nervous  ?  Alice,  that  woman  is  a 
genius.  The  senator  no  more  wanted  to  marry 
her  than  he  wanted  to  marry  his  grandmother.  But 
she  made  him  think  he  did.  Oh,  but  she  is  clever ! 
I  have  always  said  that  a  man  could  marry  any 
woman  he  wanted  to — given  equal  conditions — and 


IQ4  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

now  I  shall  forever  afterwards  add  that  a  woman 
can  marry  any  man  she  wants  to.  Oh,  what  a 
dear,  beautiful,  funny  old  world  this  is  !" 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  admire  anything  that 
Mrs.  Verry  does.  I  think  she  is  horrid." 

"Admire  her!  I  admire  her  just  as  I  admire 
Napoleon  or  Caesar  or  Alexander — anybody  who 
worked  against  fearful  odds  and  succeeded.  I 
may  not  admire  everything  about  them,  nor  ap 
prove  of  all  their  methods,  but  I  reverence  their 
perseverance  and  their  genius.  Now,  only  I  know 
what  odds  Mrs.  Verry  worked  against,  for  I  have 
heard  Senator  Cobb  express  his  opinion  of  her,  in 
days  gone  by,  in  no  very  complimentary  terms.  I 
am  racking  my  brain  to  know  what  line  of  action 
she  could  have  employed  to  change  him  and  do 
everything  up  so  speedily." 

Kate  paused  a  moment  in  deep  thought.  Alice 
thought  her  serious  interest  in  this  affair  but 
another  of  Kate's  whimseys.  It  was  of  no  more 
moment  to  Alice  than  as  if  she  had  never  seen 
Senator  Cobb.  But  to  Kate  it  was  a  problem 
which  must  be  grappled  with  and  solved  before  she 
could  rest. 

"  You  must  admit  that  it  is  rather  superb  of  her, 
Alice." 

"  How  superb  ?" 

"  Why,  to  marry  a  man  you  discarded  and  show 


ALICE  S    WEDDING-DAY  195 

him  off  at  your  wedding.  It  was  a  coup  d'etat.  I 
thought  I  would  warn  you  before  you  saw  them." 

"  I  don't  see  any  coup  d'etat  in  it,  and  I  didn't 
need  any  warning.  I  shouldn't  care  if  all  the  men 
I  know  had  married  all  the  women  I  know  and 
brought  them  all  to  my  wedding.  I  shouldn't  even 
see  them." 

"  Oh,  Alice,  you  are  so  queer." 

"  Have  you  seen  Gordon  since  you  have  been 
here  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  saw  him  yesterday.  I  think  that  she 
touched  his  vanity.  That  is  his  weakest  point." 

"Whose?     Gordon's?" 

"No;   Senator  Cobb's." 

"  Oh  !     Did  he  tell  you  about  it  ?" 

"  Did  Senator  Cobb  tell  me  about  it  ?  Mercy, 
child,  I  haven't  seen  him." 

"  I  meant  Gordon." 

"  Oh  no ;  John  told  me.  They  are  on  their 
wedding  journey.  They  are  going  to  Niagara. 
Gordon  will  hardly  allow  me  to  speak  of  it.  I 
asked  him  yesterday  if  he  had  heard  of  it,  and  he 
said  it  was  infamous.  Now,  what  made  him  show 
so  much  feeling  about  it  ?  Do  you  think  it  pos 
sible  that  Gordon  was  ever  jealous  of  Senator 
Cobb?" 

"  No.  No,  indeed.  He  knows  that  I  disliked 
him  intensely." 


196  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  Then  I  don't  know  what  made  Gordon  look  so 
stern  about  it.  There,  dear,  you  look  lovely." 

"  Thank  you  so  much  for  coming  to  help  me.  I 
did  not  like  the  idea  of  dressing  alone  on  my  wed 
ding-day.  Mrs.  Overshine  came  to  dress  me,  but 
mother  needed  her  the  most,  and  I  could  get  along 
well  enough  with  a  maid." 

"You  are  an  unselfish  little  thing,  Alice.  Tell 
me,  have  you  got  on 

'  Something  old  and  something  new, 
Something  borrowed  and  something  blue  ?' 

That's  for  luck,  you  know.  I  always  have  to  attend 
to  my  bride's  luck." 

"  No,  I  haven't,"  said  Alice,  uneasily. 

"  What  ?  Oh,  you  are  reckless  with  your  future, 
Alice.  We  must  remedy  that  instantly.  I  never 
should  dare  to  be  married  without." 

"  I  chose  Wednesday,"  said  Alice. 

"  Of  course.  Wednesday  is  the  only  day  for  a 
wedding." 

Both  girls  were  quite  serious,  Kate  half  laughing 
at  herself,  yet  conforming  to  the  old  rhyme.  The 
most  sensible  women  are  superstitious  about  love 
affairs. 

"  Now,  Alice,  here  is  a  pearl  heart  which  Gor 
don's  mother  sent  with  her  best  love  and  the  hope 
that  you  would  wear  it  at  your  wedding.  I  know 


ALICE'S    WEDDING-DAY  IQ7 

you  did  not  intend  to  wear  any  jewels,  but  will  you 
wear  this  ?'' 

"  Yes,  indeed.  '  From  Gordon's  mother  !'  Oh, 
Miss  Vandevoort,  don't  you  think  I  am  the  most 
fortunate  girl  in  the  world  ?" 

"Yes,  dear,  and  I  hope  you  and  Gordon  will  be 
as  happy  as  you  deserve  to  be." 

Something  in  Miss  Vandevoort' s  face  as  she  was 
fastening  the  pearl  heart  in  its  place  made  Alice 
put  her  arms  around  her,  in  a  sweet  little  way  of 
hers,  and  whisper :  "  Dear  Miss  Vandevoort,  you 
are  so  good  to  come  to  my  wedding  !  It  must  be 
very  hard  for  you." 

Kate's  lips  quivered  as  she  shook  her  head,  say 
ing  :  "  Now,  is  there  anything  else  I  can  do  for 
you  ?" 

"  Nothing,  except  to  leave  me  for  a  few  minutes. 
I  want  to  be  all  alone  just  before  I  am  married." 

Kate  took  Alice  in  her  arms  and  kissed  her. 
Then  she  went  out  and  closed  the  door  softly. 
She  knew  that  Alice  was  kneeling  beside  her  lit 
tle  white  bed  in  her  wedding-dress. 

It  was  a  military  wedding.  All  the  ushers  and 
George  Copeland,  as  best  man,  were  in  the  full- 
dress  uniform  of  the  United  States  army.  The 
bridesmaids  were  as  pretty  as  newspapers  always 
declare  them  to  be.  The  ceremony  was  fifteen 
minutes  late,  as  was  perfectly  proper — a  ceremony 


igS  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

on  time  looks  like  quite  indecent  haste.  Frances 
and  Peggy,  who  insisted  on  walking  backwards  in 
front  of  the  bride,  as  they  once  had  seen  flower 
children  do  at  a  wedding  in  New  York,  had  prac 
tised  the  difficult  feat  so  successfully  all  their  lives 
that  they  performed  their  part  with  a  self-posses 
sion  and  savoir  faire  which  made  Elsie  Copeland 
thrust  her  head  behind  her  mother  in  their  front 
pew  in  vicarious  nervousness. 

Alice  rose  to  the  occasion  in  a  wonderful  way. 
She  was  paler  than  usual,  but  she  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  her  surroundings.  Kate,  from  the  altar, 
watched  her  progress  down  the  aisle  on  her  father's 
arm.  She  fixed  her  eyes  upon  Gordon  and  walked 
towards  him  as  if  on  wings,  forgetting  where  she 
was,  forgetting  that  people  were  looking  at  her  and 
whispering  about  her,  forgetting  everything  except 
that  this  was  the  happiest  hour  of  her  life,  because 
she  never  again  was  to  be  anything  but  Gordon 
Counselman's  wife. 

Kate  never  could  have  lost  herself  like  that. 
Miss  Vandevoort  could  love  more  deeply  than 
Alice,  but  she  always  kept  her  head.  She  always 
knew  where  the  hem  of  her  gown  was,  and  how 
her  train  was  hanging,  and  that  people  were  look 
ing  at  her.  It  was  a  subconsciousness,  entirely 
beyond  her  control  and  in  no  way  interfering  with 
the  deep  experiences  of  her  life,  yet  because  she 


ALICE  S    WEDDING-DAY  199 

talked  about  it  people  called  her  frivolous.  Frivol 
ity  in  women  like  Miss  Vandevoort  is  but  the 
casket  enclosing  jewels  which  only  are  shown  to 
those  who  deserve  to  see  their  value. 

The  pause  came,  and  the  great  hush,  and  the 
responses,  and  the  shifting  of  figures  around  the 
altar,  and  the  ring  given  and  received,  and  then  a 
burst  of  music,  which  announced  that  the  wed 
ding,  the  great  event,  was  over,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gordon  Counselman  were  coming  down  the  other 
aisle,  with  everybody  turning  and  half  rising  to  see 
their  faces  as  they  passed. 


XIV 

AT   FORT  HAMILTON 

FORT  HAMILTON  faces  the  sea.  From  the  offi 
cers'  quarters  you  look  across  the  immense  parade- 
ground,  bounded  on  two  sides  by  the  harbor  and 
the  ocean,  and  see  the  ships  come  sailing  in,  and 
watch  with  eager  interest  the  coming  and  going  of 
the  little  government  steamers. 

To  Alice  it  was  an  enchanted  land.  She  was 
sufficiently  her  father's  daughter  to  love  the  glori 
ous  stretch  of  water  which  makes  Fort  Hamilton  a 
blissful  spot  for  those  who  love  the  sea,  and  Gordon 
was  prouder  to  have  secured  a  seaport  station,  be 
cause  she  seemed  to  love  it  so,  than  he  was  of  his 
West  Point  record  which  sent  him  into  the  artillery. 

Alice  found  herself  facing  a  responsibility  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life.  And  though  it  was  of  the  sim 
plest  description,  she  went  on  depending  upon  Gor 
don  and  asking  his  advice  about  the  veriest  triflesjust 
as  she  had  been  doing  all  her  life  with  her  mother. 

Gordon  knew  quite  as  little  as  she,  but  he  was 


AT    FORT    HAMILTON  2OI 

adaptable  and  self-reliant,  and  so  supplemented 
Alice  in  quite  a  delightful  and  satisfactory  way. 
One  shudders  to  think  what  might  have  occurred 
had  he  been  otherwise. 

Except  for  all  the  other  helpless  women  in  the 
world  who  marry  and  go  to  housekeeping  pro 
foundly  versed  in  ignorance  of  practical  affairs, 
Alice  would  have  been  extraordinary  in  this  line. 
Not  that  she  had  been  idle  all  her  life.  Far  from  it. 
She  had  fetched  and  carried  for  her  mother  until  it 
was  second  nature  for  her  to  thrust  pillows  behind 
people's  backs  and  tuck  footstools  under  their 
feet.  And  many  persons  unaccustomed  to  these 
gentle  ministrations,  who  visited  her  in  her  new 
home,  were  so  touched  by  her  thoughtfulness  that 
they  cheerfully  sat  for  hours  with  their  knees  too 
high  for  comfort,  rather  than  reject  her  little  props. 

She  played  sweetly  upon  the  piano,  and  the 
officers'  wives  at  Fort  Hamilton  were  glad  to  avail 
themselves  of  Gordon's  voice  and  Alice's  little  tum- 
ti-tum  accompaniments,  which  were  so  gentle  and 
so  seriously  performed,  and  offered,  as  it  were, 
with  such  a  spirit  of  devotion  before  the  shrine  of 
her  idol,  that  somehow  it  brought  tears  to  your 
eyes  to  hear  them.  Or,  if  it  did  not  go  that  far, 
perhaps  it  just  made  the  bridge  of  your  nose  ache, 
which  is  the  only  stopping-place  this  side  of  tears 
for  the  pathos  in  the  under  side  of  things. 


202  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Alice,  too,  understood  certain  brandies  of  cook 
ery.  She  made  delicious  gruels  and  delicate  cus 
tards,  and  when  Gordon  made  fun  of  them,  and 
expressed  himself  violently  in  favor  of  soups  and 
roasts,  Alice  almost  sighed  to  think  how  well  and 
strong  he  was,  so  that  she  might  never  look 
forward  to  cooking  her  dear  little  messes  for  an 
invalid  husband. 

Mrs.  Copeland  sent  Elsie  down  to  visit  Alice, 
and  then  this  precious  gift  of  sick-room  cookery 
came  so  strongly  into  prominence  that  Gordon 
himself  got  a  leave  at  the  end  of  two  months  and 
took  her  home  again. 

"  Mother  does  not  like  it  because  we  did  not 
keep  her  all  winter,"  sighed  Alice.  "  She  said  she 
thought  the  sea-air  would  be  beneficial." 

O 

"  So  it  would  if  either  of  you  ever  got  any  of  it," 
answered  Gordon.  "  But  you  never  left  the  house 
for  days  at  a  time." 

"  I  couldn't  leave  poor  little  Elsie." 

"  Then  why  didn't  Elsie  go  out  with  you  ?" 

"Oh,  she  didn't  want  to." 

Gordon  made  no  reply.     He  only  began  to  sing : 

"Commentators  tell  us 

That  when  from  earth  we  go 
We'll  follow  the  same  handicraft 
\Ve  followed  here  below. 


AT    FORT    HAMILTON  203 

If  this  be  true  philosophy — 

(The  parson  he  says  no), 
What  days  of  dance  and  song  we'll  have 

With  Benny  Havens,  O!" 


It  was  a  whole  year  before  Alice  discovered  that 
Gordon  sang  "  Benny  Havens"  as  an  outlet  for  all 
the  emotions  that  flesh  is  heir  to.  At  first  she 
thought  he  sang  it  because  he  was  musical. 

Alice  importuned  Miss  Vandevoort  in  every  let 
ter  to  come  and  see  their  new  home,  but  Kate  held 
off  on  one  pretext  or  another.  "Wait  until  you  get 
well  used  to  each  other's  ways,"  she  wrote,  "  so 
that  you  will  not  have  to  ask  the  bride-and-groom 
questions  at  the  table  which  are  so  embarrassing  to 
a  person  of  my  delicate  sensibilities.  At  least,  wait 
until  you  get  used  to  each  other's  tempers.  That 
will  take  a  year.  If  you  are  not  quarrelling  at  the 
end  of  a  year,  I  will  come." 

But  at  the  end  of  a  year  she  would  not  come.  She 
had  spent  most  of  the  winter  in  Washington,  and 
Alice  wrote  her  an  enthusiastic  letter  telling  her  of 
Gordon's  promotion  to  be  First  Lieutenant,  and 
begging  her  to  come  and  celebrate  with  them. 

Kate  telegraphed  them  from  Denver.  She  was 
with  a  party  of  her  English  friends  in  a  private  car, 
en  route  for  California.  She  would  come  when  she 
got  back. 


204  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

But  it  was  two  months  after  her  return  before  she 
really  came. 

Alice  was  enchanted  when  she  had  Kate  actually 
in  her  own  home.  She  showed  her  everything. 
Kate  could  see  that  the  house  had  been  set  in 
order  as  if  for  a  guest  of  honor,  and  Alice  had  even 
robbed  her  own  room  to  make  Kate's  more  attrac 
tive. 

Nearly  all  the  officers  in  the  post  called  the 
first  evening  she  was  there,  and  Alice  never  had 
seen  Kate  as  brilliant  as  she  was  that  night.  She 
was  almost  too  brilliant.  She  sang  with  Gordon 
and  played  with  Alice,  but  there  was  something 
wrong  with  her  wit.  It  sounded' reckless  to  Alice. 
She  kept  watching  the  clock,  and  suddenly  broke 
off  what  she  was  saying  to  Captain  Fisher  to  dash 
into  a  spirited  march  which  drowned  conversation 
and  set  every  one's  feet  to  tapping  with  her  marked 
time.  But  in  the  midst  of  it  the  bugle  sounded 
"taps"— "Out  your  lights,"  "Out  your  lights  "- 
and  Kate's  hands  fell  with  a  crash  on  the  keys. 

"Oh,  don't  stop  !"  they  cried. 

"  She's  forgotten  the  rest  of  it,"  said  Alice, 
nervously.  "  She  always  stops  there.  She  doesn't 
like  the  last  part.  I'll  play  for  you." 

"  It  is  odd  how  so  excellent  a  performer  as  Miss 
Vandevoort  should  break  down  in  the  middle  of  a 
thing  like  that,"  said  Mrs.  Fisher  to  Gordon.  "  It 


AT    FORT    HAMILTON 


205 


is  her  temperament,  I  think.  She  plays  with  a 
nervous  tension.  One  of  the  most  sympathetic 
and  brilliant  pianists  I  ever  knew  seldom  managed 
to  play  a  piece  through.  She  nearly  always  broke 
down." 

"  Yes,"  said  Gordon,  watching  Alice  and  Kate 
and  wondering  what  was  up,  "  I  have  heard  of 
such  things." 

"  Oh,  they  happen  very  frequently,"  declared  Mrs. 
Fisher,  thinking  that  her  husband  had  been  talking 
to  that  handsome  Miss  Vandevoort  quite  long 
enough,  and  deciding  to  go  home  at  once. 

Kate  stayed  one  day  more,  then  she  told  Alice 
she  must  go. 

"  I  can't  stay,  Alice,  dear.     You  know  why." 

Alice,  who  had  been  most  importunate  about  her 
coming,  helped  her  to  make  ready  to  go.  Gor 
don  was  loud  in  his  expressions  of  dissatisfac 
tion. 

"  I  thought  you  could  put  up  with  our  little 
makeshifts  longer  than  two  days,"  he  said,  mischiev 
ously.  "  I  am  afraid  you  are  what  they  call  in 
books  '  a  spoiled  beauty.'  "  . 

"I  am  just  that,"  laughed  Miss  Vandevoort. 
'  Spoiled  in  the  making." 

"  And  it  is  because  of  your  dear  little  makeshifts 
that  I  can't  stay.  They  are  driving  me  away,"  she 
whispered  to  Alice,  as  she  kissed  her  good-bye. 


206  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  I  am  going  back  to  Paris.  One  can  forget  every 
thing  real  in  Paris." 

"  She  said  I  was  changed,  Gordon,"  said  Alice, 
when  Kate  had  gone. 

"  She  meant  improved.     She  told  me  so." 

"  She  said  lovely  things  about  you,  Gordon. 
But  I  don't  need  to  have  outsiders  tell  me 
how  good  and  clever  you  are.  I  see  it  for  my 
self." 

"Oh,  Alice,  you  would  spoil  a  fellow.  But  I 
must  say  I  would  rather  have  my  wife  think  me 
good  and  clever  than  to  have  everybody  else  in  the 
world  think  so  if  she  didn't." 

Alice  came  and  sat  on  the  arm  of  his  chair,  and 
he  pulled  her  fancy  work  out  of  her  hands,  and 
tossed  it  on  the  table. 

"  You  don't  like  fancy  work  ?"  said  Alice. 

"  I  don't  like  to  see.  you  doing  it.  I  woukl  rather 
see  you  with  a  book." 

"But  I  never  read  so  much  in  all  my  life  as  since 
I  have  been  married.  And  it  has  been  lovely; 
lovelier  even  than  to  read  with  father.  You  are  so 
interesting  to  talk  with  afterwards." 

Gordon  smiled  at  her  derisively. 

"No,  now  there  is  no  danger  of  my  spoiling 
you,"  she  insisted.  "  You  would  have  been  spoiled 
long  ago  if  flattery  would  do  it.  But  you  are  so 
busy  doing  things  for  other  people,  and  making 


AT    FORT    HAMILTON  207 

fun,  that  you  never  seem  to  have  time  to  notice 
what  an  attractive  man  you  are." 

"  Am  I  an  attractive  man  ?"  asked  Gordon,  sol 
emnly. 

"  Very!"  laughed  Alice.  "All  the  women  are  pos 
itively  silly  over  you,  only  you  never  see  it.  You 
could  have  plenty  of  flirtations  if  you  wanted  to." 

"  By  Jove,  Alice,  you  are  changing  with  a  ven 
geance.  I  never  heard  you  talk  about  flirtations 
before.  It  sounds  too  much  like  your  friend,  Mrs. 
Cobb." 

"Not  my  friend,  Gordon.  Yours.  She  doesn't 
care  that  for  the  senator.  She  wants  other  men 
around  her  all  the  time." 

"I  don't  see  what  people  marry  for,  if  they  are 
going  to  keep  on  wanting  attentions  from  other 
people.  Why,  the  most  wonderful  woman  in  the 
world  is  not  as  attractive  to  me  as  my  own  wife." 

Alice  bent  over  and  kissed  him.  She  had  not 
lost  her  old  trick  of  blushing. 

"  How  Miss  Vandevoort  would  make  fun  of  us  if 
she  could  hear  how  silly  we  are,"  she  said. 

"It  isn't  silly  for  a  man  to  make  love  to  his  own 
wife,"  said  Gordon,  stoutly.  "This  world  would 
be  a  better  place  if  more  men  did  it." 

"  Miss  Vandevoort  says  it  doesn't  last.  She 
says  it  is  the  woman  whom  the  man  does  not  mar 
ry  that  he  often  loves  the  best." 


208  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  Miss  Vandevoort's  cynicism  is  the  most  amus 
ing  thing  in  the  world  when  you  know  her.  If  ever 
there  was  a  girl  capable  of  making  the  sweetest 
wife  in  the  world,  except  you,  it  is  Miss  Kate.  But 
that  sounds  just  like  her.  She  only  does  it  to 
cover  how  deeply  she  really  feels.  But  she  mixes 
me  all  up,  she  is  so  sudden  and  so  brilliant.  She 
addles  my  brain." 

"  Just  as  if  anybody  could  do  that,"  said  Alice, 
fondly.  "Tell  me;  was  there  anybody  else  in 
your  case — anybody  you  didn't  marry  ?" 

"Anybody  I  didn't  marry  ?  Oh,  yes  ;  several.  I 
only  married  you.  I  left  a  lot  of  girls  for  the  other 
fellows." 

"  No,  Gordon  ;  don't  joke.  You  know  what  I 
mean.  Was  there  anybody  you  ever  loved  except 
me — anybody  you  ever  think  of  when  you  sit  and 
smoke  with  your  eyes  shut  ?" 

Gordon  flung  his  head  back  and  laughed. 

"  Miss  Vandevoort  put  that  into  your  head,"  he 
declared. 

"  No,  she  didn't.     It  was  Mrs.  Cobb." 

"Well,  it  does  sound  too  decadent  for  Miss 
Kate.  Her  cynicism  is  more  normal  and  healthy, 
and  is  always  funny.  Mrs.  Cobb's  is  more  like  the 
trail  of  a  serpent.  I  don't  believe  I  care  to  have 
you  see  much  of  her,  Alice." 

"You   are   evading  me,"  said  Alice.     "I  asked 


AT    FORT    HAMILTON  2OQ 

you  a  question  and  you  are  trying  to  get  my  mind 
off  the  subject." 

"  My  dear  wife,  are  you  serious  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  am.  I  want  to  know  if  you  ever  loved 
any  other  woman  except  me  ?" 

"  Yes.  I  love  another  now.  But  it's  my  mother, 
I  meant.  Alice,  child,  how  foolish  of  you  to  turn 
pale." 

"I  told  you  I  was  in  earnest." 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  answer  you.  There  is  no  one 
now,  and  there  never  was  any  other  woman  or  girl 
in  the  world  I  ever  wanted  for  my  wife  but  you.  I 
thought  you  knew  that." 

"  Truly,  Gordon  ?" 

"  Truly,  Alice.     I  never  loved  anybody  but  you." 

"Oh,  Gordon,  you  are  such  a  dear!"" 

"Now  may  I  shut  my  eyes  when  I  smoke?" 

"  Of  course,"  said  Alice,  laughing,  with  ashamed 
face. 

As  Kate  Vandevoort  said,  the  Counselmans  were 
so  normal. 

"Gordon,  you  are  worried  about  something." 

"  How  do  you  know,  dear  ?" 

"  You  sigh,  and  you  are  getting  an  up-and-down 
wrinkle  between  your  eyebrows  that  only  goes 
away  when  I  rub  it  like  that,  and  you  shake  your 
head  this  way." 

"  You  have  sharp  eyes,  little  girl." 


210  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  Tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  Oh,  it's  nothing  much.  Just  those  debts.  I 
hate  to  owe  money." 

"What  debts,  Gordon?" 

"Those  I  told  you  about." 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  remember.  But  you  never  told  me 
what  they  were  for." 

"  I  indorsed  a  fellow's  note,  and  he  failed  to  pay 
it." 

"Why  couldn't  he?" 

"He  died." 

"Then  it  must  have  been  Mr.  Pratt.  Tell  me, 
was  it  Mr.  Pratt  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  wonder  what  it  was  for?  Mrs.  Cobb  told  me 
a  wife  ought  never  to  question  any  debts  her  hus 
band  contracted  before  he  married  her." 

"Mrs.  Cobb — "  began  Gordon,  violently. 

"  Oh,  Gordon,  Gordon  !  What  is  the  matter  ? 
What  makes  you  look  so  ?" 

"  Don't  quote  Mrs.  Cobb  to  me,  Alice.  I — I — 
think  it  would  be  better  not  to." 

"  Gordon,  how  you  frightened  me.  Sometimes  I 
think  you  hate  Mrs.  Cobb.  Why,  even  I  only  dis 
like  her.  What  makes  you,  dear  ?" 

"  I  think  she  is  a  wicked  woman,  and  utterly 
without  principle.  I — I  can't  tell  you  what  she 
has  done,  or  how  I  know  it.  1  hope  there  are  pal- 


AT   FORT    HAMILTON  211 

Hating  circumstances  that  I  don't  know  of.  Other 
wise  the  injury  she  did  a  friend  of  mine  I  could 
hardly  forgive." 

"  Oh,  Gordon  dear.  I  will  never  refer  to  it 
again.  I  did  not  know  that  you  really  had  any 
thing  against  her.  Tell  me  about  those  debts.  Do 
you  owe  any  more  than  just  what  you  told  me 
about?" 

"No,  dear;  that  is  all,  but  surely  it  is  enough." 

"  But  Gordon,  only  that  little  bit  ?  Why,  I  can 
get  you  the  money.  My  father  will  give  it  to  me." 

"Alice  Counselman  !" 

"  Well,  he  will  lend  it  to  me  then,  if  you  are  so 
proud." 

"  Look  here,  Alice,  I  wouldn't  have  told  you  if  I 
had  thought  you  would  suggest  such  a  thing.  You 
knew  you  were  marrying  a  poor  man,  who  could 
only  offer  you  a  soldier's  pay." 

"  Well,  have  I  ever  regretted  it  or  wanted  any 
thing  different  ?" 

"  No,  dear  love,  you  have  not.  You  seem  hap 
pier  here  in  this  little  house  with  nothing  in  it  than 
you  ever  did  with  all  the  lovely  things  in  that  big 
house  of  your  father's." 

"  Nothing  in  it  ?  When  you  are  here  the  whole 
world  is  in  it  for  me." 

"  No  furniture,  I  meant.  I  don't  count  myself 
furniture." 


212  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"Yet  you  furnish  the  house  more  than  anything 
else,"  laughed  Alice.  "A  sorry  looking  place  it 
would  be  without  you." 

"  Well,  I  come  under  the  head  of  useless  decora 
tions,  together  with  the  parlor  clock  and  your 
hanging  baskets." 

"Don't  you  make  fun  of  my  little  house.  I 
think  it  is  prettier  than  any  of  the  other  officers'. 
And  it  cost  so  little." 

"  That's  its  chief  beauty,"  laughed  Gordon. 

"  It  was  your  cleverness  that  did  it.  Would 
anybody  but  you  have  thought  of  having  that  little, 
old,  crooked  Japanese  cabinet-maker  make  us  a  set 
of  parlor  furniture  out  of  bamboo,  and  the  whole 
thing  costing  less  than  one  of  the  chairs  in  my 
room  at  home  ?" 

"We  don't  mind  if  the  sticks  run  into  people's 
backs  so  that  our  company  only  stay  a  few  minutes, 
or,  if  they  come  again,  say  they  prefer  to  stand  up  ?" 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  as  bad  as  that.  Of  course  they  are 
not  the  most  comfortable  things  in  the  world ;  but 
who  ever  sits  in  a  parlor,  anyway  ?" 

"  Nobody." 

"And  doesn't  everybody  think  those  hammocks 
in  the  library  are  the  most  amusing  and  the  queerest 
conceit  in  the  world,  and  doesn't  it  put  everybody 
at  their  ease  immediately  to  sit  in  a  hammock  with 
anybody?" 


AT    FORT    HAMILTON  213 

"It  does." 

"  Well,  whose  idea  was  that  ?"  demanded  Alice. 

"Mine." 

"Well,  then,  aren't  you  clever  and  nice  and  lovely, 
and  am  I  not  the  happiest  girl  in  the  world?" 

"  You  certainly  are  the  most  attractive  to  me. 
But  listen  now.  Wouldn't  you  really  rather  have 
a  nice  set  of  black  hair-cloth  furniture  for  the 
parlor,  with  this  good,  slippery  kind  of  a  sofa,  that 
you  sort  of  skate  around  on  without  half  trying, 
and  a  marble  centre-table  with  a  red-plush  album 
on  it  to  hold  family  photographs,  and  a  case  of  wax 
flowers  on  the  mantel,  and  a  motto,  '  What  is  home 
without  a  mother  ?'  worked  in  green,  to  hang  over 
the  door  ?" 

"  Gordon,  don't  make  fun  of  your  brother  officer! 
Perhaps  they  are  just  as  happy  eating  from  a  red 
table-cloth,  '  because  it  looks  so  cheerful,'  as  we 
are." 

"Who  is  making  fun  now?"  demanded  Gordon. 

"  There,  you  sighed  again.  Are  you  really  worried 
about  that  money  ?" 

"  It  bothers  me,"  answered  Gordon,  shaking  his 
head  from  side  to  side. 

"  How  funny.  Well,  how  are  you  going  to  pay 
it  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I'll  find  a  way.  I  have  several 
schemes  in  my  head.  I  had  thought  of  resigning." 


214  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"  Gordon  !  You  don't  mean  it  ?  Why,  I  wouldn't 
have  you  for  anything.  Let's  economize." 

"You  mouse!  You  don't  know  what  economy 
means!" 

"Yes,  I  do.     I'll  go  without  things." 

"You'll  go  without  a  veil  for  yourself  and  buy 
something  for  me  that  costs  ten  dollars,"  said 
Gordon,  pinching  her  cheek. 

"  Oh,  you  don't  want  me  to  economize  on  you  ?" 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  economize  on  anything," 
sighed  Gordon.  "  I  wish  I  had  a  million  for  you." 

"  I  don't  want  it,"  declared  Alice.  "  I  only  want 
enough  so  that  you  won't  worry." 

"  I  have  thought  of  applying  for  the  professor 
ship  of  Military  Science  in  Colby  University.  How 
should  you  like  that  ?" 

"Oh,  I  should  love  it.  And  I  am  sure  you  would 
get  it." 

"What  faith  you  have  in  me,  Alice." 

"  Because  I  know  you,"  she  insisted.  "  But 
wouldn't  it  be  some  time  before  you  could  get  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  a  year,  at  least." 

"  And  you  would  worry  all  that  time  ?" 

"Well,  I  shall  not  be  quite  comfortable  until  I 
pay  what  I  owe." 

"  Gordon,  dear,  won't  you  please,  please  let  me 
get  the  money  for  you  ?" 

"  Alice,  if  you   know  some — just   a  few  of  the 


AT    FORT    HAMILTON  215 

things  your  mother  has  said  to  me,  you  would  know 
how  impossible  it  would  be  for  me  to  accept  the 
smallest  favor  from  her  unless  you  were  suffering." 

"Oh,  dearest,  I  did  not  know  !  Please  forgive 
me.  How  good  of  you  never  to  tell  me  before. 
My  poor  boy.  Well,  we  are  not  suffering,  and  we 
will  starve  before  we  will  ask  them  for  anything. 
Poor  Gordon  !  You  have  borne  so  much  for  me." 

"  I'd  bear  a  good  deal  more  for  such  an  angel  as 
you  are.  Never  mind,  dear.  I've  never  had  money. 
I  shouldn't  know  what  to  do  with  it.  But  I've  got 
you  and  you've  got  me,  and  as  long  as  God  lets  us 
have  each  other,  we  will  be  happy.  Don't  fret  now. 
There  goes  '  tattoo.'  Be  at  the  window  for  me 
when  I  come  back." 


XV 

THE    FORK    IN    THE    ROAD 

DURING  the  first  years  of  their  married  life  let 
ters  carne  regularly  from  Mrs.  Copeland  imploring 
Alice  to  come  home  and  smooth  her  mother's  path 
to  the  grave.  She  knew  that  she  had  not  long  to' 
live,  she  wrote,  and  would  Gordon  have  the  heart 
to  separate  them  ?  Of  course  Gordon  would  not, 
so  they  both  went  down  to  Stockbridge,  but  Mrs. 
Copeland  showed  no  signs  of  dying,  and  Alice  so 
soon  settled  down  into  the  little  mouse  she  was 
before  she  was  married,  that  Gordon  promptly  took 
her  back  to  Fort  Hamilton. 

Three  times  were  they  summoned  for  this  pur 
pose  and  three  times  did  Gordon  quietly  take  her 
home  with  him,  undergoing  in  perfect  silence  Mrs. 
Copeland's  biting  comments  on  his  course  of  action. 
Only  once  he  left  her  there,  and  when  he  came 
again,  it  was  to  see  Alice  and  her  little  son — no 
longer  the  Alice  he  had  known,  but  an  Alice  who 
had  begun  to  take  a  hold  upon  the  deep  things  of 
life. 


THE    FORK    IN    THE    ROAD  217 

Mrs.  Copeland  insisted  that  the  baby  was  deli 
cate  from  the  first;  and,  in  spite  of  Gordon's  stout 
denials,  Alice  looked  so  frightened  when  her 
mother  came  into  the  room  and  pulled  the  curtains 
down  and  looked  at  the  baby  and  shook  her  head, 
that  although  Alice  had  meant  to  stay  in  Stock- 
bridge  for  a  while,  she  was  obliged  to  admit  that 
Gordon  was  right  when  he  insisted  that  she  must 
come  home  with  him  at  once. 

"  But  I  am  so  afraid  something  will  happen  to 
the  baby  without  some  one  who  knows  more  about 
children  than  I  do,"  pleaded  Alice.  "  Can't  we  have 
your  mother  to  live  with  us  ?" 

"  Write  and  ask  her,"  said  Gordon,  laughing, 
"  and  see  what  she  says." 

So  Alice  wrote  a  beautiful  letter,  in  her  neat, 
little  round  hand,  and  Mrs.  Counselman  wrote  back 
that  she  would  hold  herself  in  readiness  to  come  at 
an  hour's  notice,  but  that  no  house  was  large  enough 
for  two  families. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  ?"  cried  Gordon.  "  She 
knows." 

"  I  suppose  she  is  right,"  sighed  Alice.  "  Every 
time  I  see  her  I  know  why  you  are  so  good,  and 
when  I  see  your  father  I  know  why  you  are  so  clever." 

"  I  am  deeply  thankful  that  it  can  be  explained 
by  heredity,  and  that,  unlike  Topsy,  I  have  not 
'just  growed.' "  laughed  Gordon. 


2l8  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"I  hope  Lloyd  will  be  like  you,"  said  Alice, 
fondly.  "  Mrs.  Fisher  says  he  looks  just  like  you." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  not !  I  hope  1  don't  look  like  that, 
Alice.  I'm  not  conceited,  but  you  know  I  am  bet 
ter  looking  than  the  baby." 

"  Now,  Gordon,  you  can  make  fun  of  yourself,  if 
you  like,  and  you  can  make  fun  of  me,  but  you 
shall  not  ridicule  this  precious  child.  Aren't  you 
ashamed  of  yourself?" 

"Yes,  I  am." 

"  Just  look  at  him ;  he  actually  cries  for  you 
when  you  go  away.  Isn't  he  pretty  ?" 

"Beautiful." 

"  And  doesn't  he  look  like  you  ?" 

"  Exactly.  If  you  put  my  clothes  on  him,  you 
couldn't  tell  us  apart." 

Alice  gave  up  in  despair.  Mrs.  Fisher  comforted 
her. 

"All  men  talk  that  way,  my  dear.  Wait  until 
the  baby  is  older,  and  then  see  what  Gordon  will 
say." 

"Why,  he  is  just  in  fun,"  cried  Alice,  indignant 
ly.  "  He  fairly  adores  him  when  we  are  alone. 
He  likes  to  tease  me,  that's  all." 

No  harm  befell  the  child  during  his  first  year, 
in  spite  of  Alice's  constant  worry.  Gordon  kept 
her  away  from  Stockbridge,  and  gradually  she  came 
to  believe  that  the  healthful,  merry  little  fellow, 


THE    FORK    IN    THE    ROAD  219 

who  really  was  like  Gordon,  would  live,  if  they 
would  simply  allow  him  to  breathe  and  sleep  and 
kick  in  his  own  sturdy  little  fashion. 

So  the  summer  wore  away  and  their  third  win 
ter  came.  The  changelessness  of  army  life  suited 
Alice  perfectly,  but  its  inertia  preyed  upon  Gordon. 

One  day,  when  Alice  stood  at  the  window  watch 
ing  for  his  return,  she  saw  him  wave  his  cap  at  her 
from  a  group  of  officers  standing  in  front  of  the 
Mess,  with  their  arms  on  each  other's  shoulders 
and  their  heads  together  in  a  bunch,  talking  ex 
citedly  over  something.  They  dispersed  twice, 
and  twice  came  together  again,  talking,  talking, 
and  gesticulating. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?"  thought  Alice,  wonderingly. 
"News  from  the  War  Department,  I  suppose.  But 
why  doesn't  Gordon  come  and  tell  me  ?" 

He  broke  away  from  them  at  last,  gave  his  cap  a 
jerk  over  his  eyes,  buttoned  the  bottom  frog  of  his 
long  overcoat,  held  the  top  together,  and  came  up 
the  steps  at  one  jump. 

"Great  news,  Alice!"  he  cried  as  he  opened  the 
door  and  caught  her  off  her  feet. 

"  Oh,  what  is  it,  Gordon  ?" 

"  Regiment  is  ordered  away.  We  are  going  to 
move !" 

"Oh,"  said  Alice,  her  face  falling. 

"  Oh,  what  a  disappointed  tone  !    Why,  it  will  be 


220  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

jolly.  You  don't  know  what  fun  it  is  to  move.  It 
gives  a  fellow  something  to  do." 

"I  should  think  it  would,"  said  Alice,  ruefully. 

"  Our  company  is  ordered  to  Fort  Jefferson — 
Dry  Tortugas." 

"  Where  is  that  ?"  asked  Alice,  with  all  a  woman's 
charming  ignorance  of  geography. 

"  One  of  the  Florida  Keys  —  off  the  southern 
coast  of  Florida." 

"  South  ?  Florida  ?  Oh,  how  lovely  !  I've  never 
been  South,  and  I've  always  been  crazy  to  go.  Why, 
to  be  ordered  to  Florida  in  winter  is  to  have  the 
government  treat  us  like  millionaires." 

"  Won't  it  be  fun  ?  We  can  wear  thin  clothes  all 
winter,  and  in  the  summer  you  will  have  to  come 
North." 

"  Well,  I'll  come  home  and  visit,  and  you  will 
spend  your  leave  with  us  and  that  will  break  the 
summer  for  me.  Then  just  as  soon  as  it  gets 
cool  in  Stockbridge  we  will  follow  you  to  Fort 
Jefferson." 

"  My  goodness,  how  we  shall  want  to  see  each 
other  by  that  time,  when  I  want  to  tear  down  to 
Stockbridge  the  day  after  I  let  you  go,"  sighed 
Gordon. 

"  Florida  will  be  good  for  the  baby,"  said  Alice, 
wisely.  "  Cold  weather  doesn't  agree  with  him  very 
well." 


THE  FORK  IN  THE  ROAD          221 

"  Florida  will  be  good  for  the  bamboo  furniture," 
said  Gordon.  "  It  won't  be  necessary  to  have  it 
padded  and  steam-heated  the  way  we  do  here." 

"And  the  hammocks  !"  laughed  Alice.  "How 
considerate  Uncle  Sam  has  been  of  the  Counsel- 
mans'  furniture  !" 

"We  can  live  in  hammocks  the  year  round,"  said 
Gordon.  Then  he  began  to  sing : 

"From  the  land  of  sun  and  flowers, 

From  Tampa's  lovely  shove, 
There  comes  a  wail  of  sadness  up: 

O'Brien  is  no  more. 
The  prince  of  all  good  fellows, 

Ne'er  a  better  do  we  know, 
May  we  meet  him  in  that  happy  land 

With  Benny  Havens,  O  !" 

He  insisted  upon  beginning  to  pack  that  night, 
and  by  morning  the  whole  post  was  upset.  Alice 
was  not  used  to  such  topsy-turvy  haste,  and  at 
first  it  shocked  her  sense  of  the  proprieties.  But 
the  other  officers'  wives  were  equally  expeditious, 
and  so  plainly  made  it  appear  the  only  thing  to  do 
that  Alice  sensibly  joined  in,  and  soon  was  packing 
as  crazily  as  the  rest.  Gordon  was  so  big  and 
strong  and  helpful,  and  made  so  merry  over  the 
hard  work,  that  Alice  spent  most  of  her  time  laugh 
ing  and  following  him  around,  holding  the  baby. 


222  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

The  Counselmans  were  ready  first,  of  course. 
Gordon  had  rushed  around  to  such  an  extent,  and 
they  were  young,  and  had  so  little  to  pack,  that  long 
before  marching  orders  came  he  found  time  hang 
ing  heavily  on  his  hands.  So  he  fell  to  helping  the 
ladies  of  the  post  to  do  their  part  of  packing  bric-a- 
brac  and  clocks. 

He  did  it  so  deftly  and  made  such  light  work  of 
it  that  the  officers  declared  that  Counselman  spoiled 
their  wives  by  too  much  waiting  on  them.  But 
Gordon  never  could  bear  to  see  a  woman  do  any 
thing  which  looked  hard.  He  had  such  a  merry 
way  of  taking  her  work  out  of  her  hands,  however, 
that  they  never  realized  how  much  he  helped  ev 
erybody. 

';Oh,  dear,  why  will  people  give  us  onyx  clocks 
and  bronze  vases,  when  the  government  only  allows 
us  seven  hundred  pounds  of  luggage!"  sighed  Mrs. 
Fisher. 

"Never  mind.  Pay  the  extra  freight  with  a 
smiling  countenance.  You  won't  have  so  much 
next  time.  Three  moves  are  equal  to  a  fire,  you 
know,"  said  Gordon,  soothingly. 

"  Isn't  he  consoling  ?"  cried  Mrs.  Fisher. 

Gordon  insisted  upon  being  paid  by  Welsh  rare 
bits  made  in  the  chafing-dish  and  eaten  from  tin 
plates,  with  everybody  sitting  around  on  boxes,  and 
of  winding  up  every  evening  with  a  "  sing."  Some- 


THE  FORK  IN  THE  ROAD          223 

times  voices  broke  and  lips  quivered  over  the  dear 
old  songs  which,  perhaps,  they  might  never  sing 
together  again. 

"  I  should  be  jealous  of  you,  Counselman,"  said 
Major  Prescott,  who  never  did  anything  he  could 
help  doing,  "if  you  took  advantage  of  one-half  my 
wife  says  of  you." 

"  Your  wife,  Major,  is  one  of  the  most  charitably 
disposed  women  I  know.  She  covers  my  short 
comings  with  that  which  '  never  faileth.' " 

"  You  think  she  '  suffereth  long  and  is  kind,'  do 
you  ?"  laughed  the  major. 

"  I  think  she  is  using  me  as  an  example  to 
make  you  work,"  answered  Gordon,  confiden 
tially. 

The  Third  was  to  be  very  generally  scattered 
along  the  coast.  The  officers  were  pleased  at  the 
prospect  of  a  change  which  promised  to  be  so 
pleasant,  but  Gordon  Counselman,  the  youngest 
first  lieutenant  in  the  regiment,  and  the  one  as 
signed  to  the  most  unpromising  post,  was  so  much 
more  pleased  than  all  the  others  that  he  infected 
the  rest  with  his  spirits,  and  made  the  last  days  of 
the  Third's  stay  at  Fort  Hamilton  a  jubilee  that  no 
one  who  participated  ever  forgot. 

The  discontented  and  the  fretful  and  the  chronic 
complainers  were  the  ones  he  took  especial  pleas 
ure  in  diverting,  and  the  result  was  that,  for  so 


224  THE   UNDER    SIDE   OF    THINGS 

radical  a  move,  it  was  the  most  harmonious  the 
regiment  ever  experienced. 

Those  ordered  to  Pensacola  and  Tortugas,  he 
claimed,  were  the  most  favored.  He  painted  Florida 
in  glowing  colors,  and  insisted  that "  Fort  San  Carlos 
de  Barancas,"  the  name  of  the  fort  at  Pensacola, 
sounded  so  Spanish  and  so  Mexican  and  so  foreign 
that  to  go  there  would  be  like  a  composite  journey 
around  the  world,  with  Uncle  Sam  for  a  letter  of 
credit. 

He  sent  Alice  and  the  baby  down  to  Stockbridge 
on  Friday,  and  he  was  to  spend  Sunday  with  them 
to  say  good-bye,  bringing  them  back  with  him  to 
sail  on  Monday. 

"Your  mother  will  say  that  you  are  looking 
pale,  Alice,"  said  Gordon,  anxiously,  bracing  her 
to  resist  the  mental  malaria  of  her  mother,  "but 
you  must  tell  her  that  the  post  surgeon  says  Flor 
ida  will  set  you  up  and  be  the  best  thing  in 
the  world  for  you.  And  as  to  Lloyd,  a  warm  cli 
mate  is  exactly  what  he  needs.  Now,  don't  forget 
this." 

"  I  won't,  dear.  I  will  remember  everything. 
Button  up  your  coat.  You  will  catch  your  death 
cold  with  it  flying  open  that  way." 

Gordon  obediently  buttoned  it.  He  thought  it 
charming  to  be  looked  after  in  this  way  by  his 
pretty  little  wife. 


THE  FORK  IN  THE  ROAD          225 

"  Now  let  the  nurse  hold  the_baby.  You  needn't 
be  afraid  people  will  think  it  is  hers." 

"  Gordon  !" 

"  Well,  you  are  apt  to  overtax  yourself,  and  I 
must  take  care  of  you.  You  are  looking  a  little 
pale." 

';  Why,  Gordon,  you  are  just  like  mother,"  said 
Alice,  innocently.  She  never  saw  her  mother  with 
other  people's  eyes. 

"  Heaven  forbid  !"  thought  Gordon.  But  he  did 
not  say  so. 

They  watched  each  other  out  of  sight,  as  if  they 
never  expected  to  meet  again.  Nor  did  they  sus 
pect,  that  any  one  noticed  them  or  thought  them 
either  odd  or  foolish.  But  one  or  two  women  who 
had  outlived  the  expression  of  their  husband's  love 
felt  a  queer  little  lump  rise  in  their  throats  as  they 
turned  away. 

When  Gordon  arrived  in  Stockbridge  and  tried 
to  spring  up  the  terrace  steps  as  he  did  at  home, 
he  felt  his  feet  drag  in  the  old,  unmistakable  way. 
Although  he  never  showed  it,  he  disliked  the  house, 
the  grounds,  the  whole  place  as  only  a  proud  man 
can  where  he  has  been  insulted  by  a  woman  in 
scrupulously  polite  tones. 

He  found  Mrs.  Copeland  in  a  pious  state  of 
resignation,  and  Alice  with  a  face  whiter  than  the 
baby's  dress. 


226  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"What  is  the  matter,  dearest?"  he  said,  taking 
her  into  his  arms.  "  What  are  they  tormenting 
you  about  now?" 

"  Mother  says  she  is  too  delicate  to  be  left  alone, 
and  that  she  will  die  if  I  go  to  Fort  Jefferson.  Oh, 
Gordon,  Gordon,  it  will  break  my  heart  to  be  left 
behind." 

"You  shall  not  be  left!  I  won't  leave  you! 
You  are  my  wife  more  than  you  are  your  mother's 
daughter,  and  you  shall  go  where  you  want  to  go." 

"Oh,  that  would  be  with  you,  darling.  But  I 
really  think  I  ought  to  stay.  You  can  see  for  your 
self  that  mother  is  failing." 

"No,  I  cannot." 

"  Well,  she  is,  and  she  needs  me." 

"  Let  George's  wife  take  care  of  her.  She  is  here 
all  the  time." 

"Yes,  but  mother  wants  me,  and  she  says  my 
first  duty  is  to  her  for  the  little  time  she  will  be  on 
earth.  If  I  went  and  she  should  die,  I  could  never 
forgive  myself." 

"  She  won't  die,"  said  Gordon,  gloomily. 

"  Poor  mother.  She  is  such  a  sufferer,"  sighed 
Alice.  "  I  know  that  I  ought  to  stay." 

"Alice,  do  you  really  feel  it  your  duty  to  stay?" 

"  She  thinks  it  is." 

"Well,  use  your  own  conscience.  What  do  you 
think  ?" 


THE  FORK  IN  THE  ROAD  227 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  go  with  you.'' 

"Then  you  shall  go." 

Alice  clung  to  him  in  silence,  with  her  face 
buried  in  his  coat,  glad  to  have  him  decide  for  her, 
and  take  the  responsibility  off  her  hands. 

But  it  was  a  cheerless  day.  Alice  stayed  up-stairs 
with  her  mother  in  a  darkened  room;  the  doctor 
was  called  in,  and  Gordon  and  Judge  Copeland 
smoked  in  the  library  and  talked  fitfully  of  every 
thing  except  that  which  lay  uppermost  in  both 
minds. 

The  Overshines  came  over  in  the  afternoon  to 
say  good-bye,  but  they  hurried  away  again  from  a 
house  filled  with  such  careful  gloom. 

When  the  doctor  left,  Gordon  went  to  get  Alice 
and  take  her  for  a  walk. 

"Gordon,"  she  said,  when  she  saw  him,  "  It  is 
no  use.  I  must  stay  here.  The  doctor  says  Florida 
might  kill  my  baby." 

"  The  post  surgeon  thinks  differently." 

"  Yes,  but  mother  says  Dr.  Jamison  knows  my 
constitution,  and  the  baby's,  and  that  I  will  be  run 
ning  the  gravest  risk  if  I  take  him.  I  have  decided. 
I  must  stay  here." 

Gordon  said  nothing.  He  was  too  bitterly  dis 
appointed  to  speak.  He  only  took  her  in  his  arms, 
and  kissed  her  and  petted  her  all  the  rest  of  the 
time  they  were  together,  in  a  way  which  afterwards 


225  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

came  back  to  her,  as  if,  even  then,  he  must  have 
known. 

If  he  felt  that  Alice  was  wrong  he  never  said  so, 
and  she  could  not  seem  to  feel  intuitively  that  she 
had  failed  at  the  supreme  test.  Men  like  Gordon 
are  braver  than  the  Alices  of  this  world  ever  know. 
She  thought  it  perfectly  natural  that  he  should 
hover  around  her  in  an  agony  of  love  and  tender 
ness,  but  which  was  largely  disappointment — not  in 
her;  he  was  too  loyal  for  that.  But  a  great  bitter 
ness  of  spirit  surged  up  and  overwhelmed  him  at 
the  cruelty  of  the  unknown  elements  in  her  nature 
which  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  meet  him  on 
his  plane.  Gordon  was  undergoing  the  mortal 
agony  of  a  soul  sick,  sick  unto  death,  and  without 
the  power  of  speech  which  might  lead  to  healing. 

Alice  was  sharing  his  unhappiness  to  the  best  of 
her  ability.  One  has  no  fault  to  find  with  the  pur 
ling  river  which  runs  into  the  mighty  sea.  Doubt 
less  the  river  would  feel  more  natural  in  finding  its 
outlet  in  a  lake. 

She  clung  to  him  at  parting  with  such  soft, 
womanly  tenderness  that  Gordon  forgot  some  of 
the  deep-searching  pain  he  had  undergone.  But 
his  face,  which  always  was  so  merry,  took  on  such 
a  look  of  anguish  when  he  held  his  baby  son  in  his 
arms  for  the  last  time  that  Judge  Copeland  turned 
hastily  away. 


THE  FORK  IN  THE  ROAD          229 

Gordon  tried  to  go  twice,  and  twice  came  back 
again,  to  undergo  once  more  the  sweet  bitterness 
of  pressing  his  face  against  the  soft  baby  cheeks 
of  the  little  fellow,  who  tried  to  understand  what 
Alice  was  saying  to  him  about  dear  papa's  going 
away. 

Gordon  looked  back  from  the  gate,  and  Alice  was 
at  the  window  waving  Lloyd's  baby  hand  for  him. 
Gordon  was  not  ashamed  of  the  tears  which  forced 
themselves  to  his  eyes  at  the  sudden  mighty  ache 
of  his  heart. 


XVI 

INTO   SILENCE 

GORDON  COUNSELMAN  had  all  a  soldier's  idea  of 
duty.  He  followed  his  own  conscience,  and  per 
mitted  everybody  else,  even  his  wife,  to  do  the 
same.  Although  he  could  not  upon  this  occasion 
quite  agree  with  Alice  in  her  point  of  view,  still 
he  defended  her  against  everyone  who  blamed  her 
for  not  going  with  her  husband,  as  many  people 
dared  to  do.  He  admired  Alice's  devotion  to  a 
forbidding  duty,  which  she  paid  so  unswervingly. 
He  doubted  if,  in  her  place,  he  could  have  done  it 
so  promptly.  A  man  with  a  conscience  will  sacri 
fice  his  head  and  his  bodily  comfort  to  his  ideal  of 
duty,  but  he  clings  tenaciously  to  his  heart's  desire, 
and  yields  that  last,  if  at  all.  A  woman  with  a  con 
science  often  makes  a  burnt-offering  of  her  heart, 
from  pure  altruism.  Men  call  such  a  woman  either 
a  saint,  or — cold. 

To  Alice's  grief,  she  discovered  that  nearly  every 
body  in  Stockbridge,  and,  later,  that  even  Miss 


INTO    SILENCE  231 

Yanclevoort  herself,  thought  her  entirely  wrong  in 
her  course  of  action.  Some  gave  her  no  quarter. 
The  kindest  only  said  that  her  conception  of  duty 
was  ill  considered.  Her  letters  to  Gordon's  mother, 
hitherto  so  affectionate,  became  constrained  and 
apologetic ;  and  Mrs.  Counselman's  silence  upon 
this  one  subject  in  her  kind  replies  grieved  Alice 
beyond  measure — it  was  so  eloquent  a  condemna 
tion. 

It  was  part  of  Alice's  inheritance,  that  in  spite  of 
all  this  she  never  thought  of  changing  her  mind 
and  following  Gordon  to  Fort  Jefferson. 

When  it  became  too  much  to  bear,  she  over 
flowed  in  her  letters  to  Gordon,  and  he  assured  her 
that  no  one  was  competent  to  judge  so  well  as  her 
clear  self,  and  he  upheld  her  so  courageously  that  she 
believed  he  wholly  approved  her  course — so  much 
so  that  she  began  to  think,  and  to  say  to  others, 
that  in  remaining  in  Stockbriclge  she  was  following 
her  husband's  advice. 

When  Kate,  at  Nice,  received  the  first  letter  from 
Alice,  in  which  she  put  this  into  words,  it  did  not 
change  her  opinion  in  the  slightest  degree.  She 
knew  just  how  Alice  came  to  believe  that.  She 
dropped  the  letter  in  her  lap  and  sat  looking  out 
over  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  as  if  her 
eyes  saw  something  from  the  long  ago. 

Little  Lloyd  was  growing  finely.     He  was  one 


232  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

person  to  whom  Alice  could  talk  of  Gordon  by  the 
hour.  She  tried  to  make  him  an  entity  to  the  child. 
She  filled  her  rooms  with  pictures  of  him,  and  made 
him  the  hero  of  all  the  wonderful  tales  she  wove 
for  the  sleepy  hour.  She  read  his  letters  aloud  to 
the  little  fellow,  who  listened  with  grave,  intelligent 
eyes,  and  guided  the  baby  fist  in  the  hieroglyphics 
which  went  as  replies  from  Lloyd  to  his  papa. 
Alice  even  sent  Gordon  the  photograph  of  himself, 
taken  in  his  uniform,  which  Lloyd  considered  his. 
It  was  all  blistered  from  the  moisty  kisses  his  little 
son  had  imprinted  on  the  face  in  his  bursts  of  af 
fection  for  his  soldier  father,  and  Gordon  laughed, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  when  he  saw  it. 

Perhaps  they  were  very  foolish,  these  two  young 
people.  But  they  loved  each  other,  and  they  went 
blindly  forward,  hoping  for  the  future,  the  dear 
future  which  should  bring  them  together. 

The  winter  passed,  spring  came  and  went,  and 
summer  was  half  over.  It  was  time  for  Gordon  to 
have  his  leave.  Alice  was  growing  restlessly  im 
patient.  It  was  very  hot  in  Florida,  and  had  been 
summer  with  them  when  there  was  snow  in  Stock- 
bridge. 

Suddenly  a  letter  came  which  almost  repaid 
Alice  for  her  year  of  separation.  The  long-looked- 
for  detail  as  professor  of  Military  Science  at  Colby 
University  had  arrived,  and  with  it  Gordon's  leave 


INTO    SILENCE  233 

of  absence.  That  meant  no  more  separations,  no 
more  debts,  no  more  worry,  and  Gordon  with  her 
for  at  least  four  years.  Alice  almost  ran  to  tell  the 
good  news  to  her  friends.  Gordon  had  saved  it  to 
surprise  her.  She  talked  to  Lloyd  until  the  child 
was  nearly  crazy  with  delight.  Gordon's  letter 
said  that  he  might  arrive  at  any  time.  Letters 
were  so  often  delayed  coming  from  Tortugas. 
"  You  may  look  for  me  at  any  hour,"  he  wrote. 

"  Papa  may  come  to-day,  dear  lamb,"  she  cried 
to  Lloyd.  "Perhaps  he  is  here  now.  Perhaps  he 
is  just  getting  off  the  train.  Perhaps  he  is  coming 
down  the  street.  Let's  look  out  of  the  window  and 
see  if  we  can  see  him.  How  big  is  he,  darling?" 

"  Bigger  dan  g'an'papa,"  said  the  child. 

"  And  what  does  he  call  my  baby  ?" 

"  Papa's  p'ecious  little  son." 

"  And  what  does  my  baby  call  him  ?" 

"  My  darlin'  foddy." 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  when  you  see 
him  ?'' 

"  I'm  don'  tiss  'm,  'n'  hug  him  much  as  I  love 
him." 

"  Oh,  you  little  angel !  You  remember  it  all. 
Now,  you  won't  forget  when  you  see  a  great  big 
man,  and  I  say,  'That's  your  foddy,'  will  you?" 

"  No,"  said  the  child,  solemnly. 

"  Come,  let's  sit  at  the  window  and  watch  for 


234  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

him.  His  letter  said,  'At  any  hour.'  Here,  sit  in 
mamma's  lap,  and  let  me  brush  your  curls.  Do 
you  remember  how  we  sent  one  of  these  curls  to 
dear  foddy,  and  he  put  it  in  the  back  of  his  watch, 
and  a  little  hair  got  into  the  wheels  and  stopped 
them?  Wasn't  that  funny?  Oh,  look!  There 
comes  a  messenger  boy  with  a  telegram.  Perhaps 
that  is  from  papa,  saying  that  he  has  arrived  in 
New  York.  Let  mother  run  to  get  it." 

She  opened  the  telegram  without  a  fear.  It  was 
from  the  post  surgeon  at  Fort  Jefferson. 

"  Mrs.  GORDON  COUNSELMAN,  Stockbridge,  Pa.: 

"  Lieutenant  Counselman  died  of  yellow-fever  on  the  nth 
inst.,  at  5.30  P.M.  G.  H.  CARSON, 

"  Post  Surgeon." 

Alice  fell  just  where  she  stood,  like  a  broken 
lily.  It  was  her  father  who  found  her,  and  with  un 
speakable  tenderness  carried  her  to  her  bed,  where 
she  lay  crushed  and  helpless. 

The  blow  had  fallen  so  suddenly  and  with  such 
mighty  force  that  for  weeks  she  remained  in  a 
dazed,  semi-conscious  condition,  shedding  no  tears 
and  making  no  outcry. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head  when  day  after  day 
passed  with  no  change.  But  nothing  aroused  her 
stunned  intellect,  nothing  brought  the  healing  tears, 
not  even  the  presence  and  pitiful  wailing  of  her 


INTO    SILENCE  235 

boy,  who  could  not  understand  why  his  caresses 
were  unnoticed  and  unreturned. 

When  she  grew  strong  enough  to  creep  out  into 
the  light  of  day  a  letter  came  from  Dr.  Magnus,  of 
Key  West,  who  had  gone  to  Gordon's  assistance 
when  the  pestilence  broke  out  at  the  fort. 

She  was  sitting  listlessly  at  the  window,  with  her 
boy  in  her  arms,  when  this  letter  was  put  into  her 
hands  to  read  : 

"  Mrs.  GORDON  COUNSELMAN  : 

"My  (fear  Madam, — My  telegram  in  answer  to  your  in 
quiry  concerning  Lieutenant  Counselman  doubtless  has  been 
received.  Some  further  particulars  I  now  give  by  mail. 
During  the  violence  of  the  epidemic  at  Fort  Jefferson  I  vol 
unteered  my  services  to  assist  the  medical  officers  at  that  post 
in  the  care  of  the  sick. 

"  Upon  my  arrival  I  found  the  officers  at  the  post,  includ 
ing  Lieutenant  Counselman,  wellnigh  exhausted  with  inces 
sant  watching  and  assiduous  care  of  the  victims.  During  my 
stay  of  some  ten  days  no  one  displayed  a  more  exalted  sympa 
thy,  more  zeal  and  anxiety  in  the  care  of  the  sufferers,  day  and 
night,  than  your  husband,  entirely  forgetting  and  ignoring 
self  in  the  discharge  of  self-imposed  duties  to  those  committed 
to  his  official  care.  The  leave  of  the  colonel  of  the  regiment 
had  expired  some  few  days  before,  and  Lieutenant  Counsel- 
man's  date  for  departure  was  therefore  delayed.  But  al 
though  repeatedly  urged  to  go,  the  nurses  were  too  few  for 
him  to  permit  himself  to  listen  to  their  generous  suggestions. 
I  remained  with  him  until  the  epidemic  began  to  abate,  when 
1  returned  to  Key  West. 


236  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

"Two  hours  after  my  departure  from  the  fort,  on  the  8th 
inst.,  he  was  violently  stricken  down,  and  although  a  gun  was 
fired  and  the  flag  displayed  nt  half-mast,  the  vessel  upon 
which  I  left  was  too  far  out  for  the  gun  to  be  heard  or  the 
signal  of  distress  to  be  seen.  He  died  after  three  days'  ill 
ness,  truly,  sincerely,  and  deeply  regretted  by  friends,  ac 
quaintances,  and  unusually  so  by  his  comrades. 

' '  During  the  epidemic  it  had  been  the  custom  for  the  colored 
attaches  of  the  post  to  bury  the  dead.  But  during  the  still 
hours  of  the  night,  after  his  death  in  the  late  afternoon,  those 
of  the  soldiers  who  had  volunteered  their  services  as  nurses 
and  attendants,  desirous  of  paying  the  last  sad  tribute  to  their 
beloved  commander,  whose  last  words  were,  '  I  have  stood  by 
you,'  secretly  removed  his  remains,  and  buried  him  silently 
and  tearfully,  with  their  own  hands,  in  an  adjoining  key 
some  two  miles  distant. 

"  The  surprise  of  the  officers  the  next  morning  was  great,  but 
appreciating  this  portrayal  of  affection  on  the  part  of  his  sol 
diers,  they  were  silent  as  to  the  breach  of  discipline,  and  pro 
ceeded  with  the  plan  of  interment. 

"They  were  rowed  over  to  the  key,  and  with  appropriate 
services  committed  his  body,  dust  to  dust  and  ashes  to  ashes, 
and  his  soul  to  God  who  gave  it. 

"  The  loss  of  such  men  as  Lieutenant  Counselman  is  truly 
great,  to  home,  country,  and  friends,  and  is  a  forcible  exam 
ple  of  self-sacrifice  in  devotion  to  duty. 

"  Hoping  that  this  sad  affliction  to  you  and  friends  at  home 
may  be  somewhat  softened  by  your  knowledge  of  the  circum 
stances  under  which  he  was  taken, 

"  I  am,  my  dear  madam, 

"  Very  truly  yours, 

"JOSEPH  MAGNUS." 


INTO    SILENCE  237 

When  Alice  finished  she  buried  her  face  in  her 
baby's  little  white  dress,  and  fell  into  the  bitter, 
bitter  weeping  which  only  the  widowed  know. 

Then  she  took  Lloyd  in  her  arms  and  went  and 
stood  before  a  large  portrait  of  Gordon.  The  baby 
looked  wonderingly  at  her  tears. 

"  Look  there,  my  darling.  There  is  a  hero  that 
nobody  will  ever  hear  about.  Only  you  and 
mamma  know  that  he  gave  up  his  life  for  other 
people,  and  that  we  are  proud,  proud  that  we  be 
long  to  him  and  bear  his  name." 

She  took  the  letter  down  for  her  mother  to  read. 
Mrs.  Copeland  had  been  prostrated  ever  since  the 
news  arrived.  Alice  sat  down  by  the  window  over 
looking  the  Delaware  and  the  boat-house  steps 
where  Gordon  had  first  told  her  he  loved  her.  She 
still  held  Lloyd  in  her  arms. 

Mrs.  Copeland  sobbed  aloud  over  the  reading  of 
it,  but  Alice  only  rocked  the  baby  back  and  forth, 
and  looked  out  over  the  river. 

"  He  was  a  hero,  mother,"  she  said,  quietly. 
"  Pray  do  not  exhaust  yourself  so.  I  only  wish 
that  people  knew  how  good  he  was.  But  they 
would  forget,  if  they  did  know.  You  and  I,  Lloyd, 
will  never  forget.  We  will  always  remember  him, 
won't  we,  baby  ?" 

"  Papa's  p'ecious  little  son,"  murmured  the  child, 
sleepily. 


238  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

Alice  kissed  him  and  smiled. 

"  Is  my  foddy  tummin'  to-day  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Not  to-day,  darling.     Perhaps  to-morrow." 

"My  focldy's  tummin'  to-morrow,"  he  repeated, 
leaning  his  curly  head  against  Alice's  shoulder  in 
sleepy  content. 

Judge  Copeland  came  in  and  laid  his  hand 
tenderly  on  Alice's  soft  hair.  It  was  so  exactly 
Gordon's  way  and  Gordon's  touch,  that  she  bowed 
over  her  baby's  head  in  helpless  sobbing. 

"Are  you  able  to  read  this,  dear  daughter?"  lie 
said.  He  handed  her  a  newspaper,  pointing  with 
his  finger  to  a  column  headed,  "LIEUTENANT 
GORDON  COUNSELMAN." 

Alice  took  it  and  read  : 

"  Lieutenant  Counselman,  who  died  recently  at  Fort  Jef 
ferson,  Fla. ,  lias  left  a  name  among  his  comrades  and  in  his 
regiment  which  any  soldier  might  be  proud  to  own.  lie  was 
ordered  to  a  Northern  post,  detailed  as  professor  of  Military 
Science  at  Colby  University.  His  successor  had  arrived  at 
Fort  Jefferson  with  his  detail,  but  his  command  needed  him. 
The  dreadful  epidemic  of  yellow-fever  was  taking  offhis  men. 
He  refused  to  go  ;  even  refused  to  look  at  the  order  for  his 
detail,  preferring  death  at  his  post  to  an  'easy  berth,'  even 
though  that  death  was  facing  hLn  in  the  awful  form  of  pes 
tilence.  He  chose  to  remain  with  his  command,  and  in1  the 
words  of  Colonel  Collins,  his  successor  in  command,  '  stood  by 
while  the  dead  were  being  carried  out,  and  now  lies  with  ten 
of  the  men  he  tried  so  hard  to  save.' 


INTO    SILENCE  239 

"Subjoined  is  an  order  issued  by  the  Gulf  Department, 
an  honor  rarely  paid  to  a  subaltern  officer: 

"  '  HEADQUARTERS  DEPARTMENT  OF  THE  GULF, 

"  '  HOLLY  SPRINGS,  MISSISSIPPI. 
'  '  General  Orders, No.  27. 

'  '  It  is  with  sincere  regret  that  the  Department  Commander 
announces  the  death  at  Fort  Jefferson,  Florida,  of  First  Lieu 
tenant  Gordon  Counselman  of  the  Third  Artillery. 

"  '  This  young  officer  had  already  won  the  esteem  of  his  as 
sociates  and  the  respect  of  his  commanding  officers  by  his  high 
soldierly  qualities,  and  the  circumstances  attending  his  death 
were  such  as  to  furnish  a  fitting  close  to  his  military  career. 

"  '  The  only  officer  at  an  isolated  military  post  when  it  was 
visited  by  a  dangerous  epidemic,  he  seemed  to  multiply  him 
self  in  his  ever-present  care  and  watchfulness  for  the  men  of 
his  command,  and  it  is  doubtless  due  to  the  exhaustion  and 
fatigue  resulting  from  his  anxious  discharge  of  duty  that  he 
finally  fell  a  victim  to  the  disease. 

"  '  With  death  on  every  side  and  staring  him  in  the  face  he 
never  faltered  in  his  lonely  duty,  and  when  relief  finally  came 
he  could  only  welcome  it  for  his  men.  It  came  too  late  to 
save  their  faithful  commander.  Then, and  not  till  then, he 
yielded  to  the  attack  of  the  destroyer,  and  on  Thursday  even 
ing,  the  nth  of  September,  died,  on  duty  and  at  his  post. 
"  '  I!y  order  of  MAJOR-GENERAL  CLARKE. 

"  '  E.  R.  Carpenter,  Ass't.  Adjt.-General.' " 

Alice  handed  the  paper  back  to  her  father. 
"  It  is  cruel  that  you  could  not  know  these  things 
first,  daughter,"  he  said,  kindly. 

"  No,  father.     It  is  just  as  well.     I  am  glad  other 


240  THE    UNDER    SIDE    OF    THINGS 

people  know  them,  too.  But  they  will  forget.  Only 
/  shall  remember." 

But  when  hosts  of  letters  poured  in  upon  her 
from  Gordon's  brother  officers  and  from  his  count 
less  friends,  Alice  began  to  realize,  as  she  never  had 
clone  before,  how  he  had  lived  and  how  he  had 
died.  Even  she,  his  own  wife,  had  not  known  him 
as  these  people  seemed  to  have  done.  For  the  first 
time  she  was  getting  an  outside  point  of  view. 

All  through  the  autumn  Alice  comforted  her 
mother  for  Gordon's  loss.  Mrs.  Copeland  was 
more  bereaved  than  any  one  would  have  suspected. 
Perhaps  she  regretted  some  things.  Most  people 
never  feel  remorse  until  it  is  too  late. 

Gifford  hung  around  Alice  with  his  face  grave 
with  sorrow.  He  filled  her  room  with  flowers,  and 
showed  her  in  a  thousand  ways  how  his  boyish 
heart  ached  for  her.  Everybody  said  Alice  bore  up 
bravely.  They  never  knew  how  many  nights  she 
spent  kneeling  beside  her  baby's  little  bed,  her 
whole  soul  going  up  in  the  anguished  cry,  "  Dear 
God,  why  must  Thou  always  take  the  best?" 

Who  knows  the  night-time  agony  of  those  who 
"  bear  up  bravely  ?" 

Alice  controlled  herself  for  her  mother's  sake. 
Mrs.  Copeland  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  any  grief 
except  her  own.  Elsie,  too,  was  easily  upset. 

Kate  Vandevoort   heard  of  it  in    Norway   and 


INTO    SILENCE  241 

came  straight  home.  But  it  was  November  before 
she  arrived. 

"  How  will  she  bear  it !"  thought  Kate.  "  If  I 
could  only  see  whether  she  will  live  by  Gordon's 
life  or  Mrs.  Copeland's." 

Kate  found  Alice  a  pathetic  little  black-robed 
figure  sitting  beside  her  mother,  both  of  them  en 
grossed  in  fancy  work.  As  Kate  took  Alice  in  her 
arms,  the  ball  of  worsted  rolled  under  the  table  and 
the  kitten  played  with  it. 

"  My  poor  child,"  she  murmured. 

Little  Lloyd  crept  up  to  Alice,  and,  pulling  at  her 
skirts,  said  : 

"  Is  my  darlin'  focldy  tummin'  home  to-day  ?" 

Kate  broke  into  wild  weeping. 

"  Not  to-day,  dear.     Perhaps  to-morrow." 


THE    END 


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